How the Local September Weather Misses my Husband

It has been rainy in Boise this last week.  The sky is crowded with dark clouds and the sun has been filtered into a grey light that settles around everything as comfortably as a quilt.  The weather is cooler than it has been and the sound of the raindrops hitting the windshield or windowpane is incredibly soothing.

   

Rain in Southern Idaho is always a blessing and this week it means something more to me because it makes me feel closer to Jason.  My husband has been away from home, and will be for a while, for work.  He is in Salem, Oregon.

Salem gets about 49 inches of rain a year, compared to Boise, which gets less than 12 inches of rain a year.

I think to myself, "Boise is so sad, it cries for Jason's absence."  But I know that I am just personifying the weather with my own feelings.  Regardless of how sappy the thoughts are in my head, I still feel some connection to my husband because of this Boise weather.  Every day I ask him, "Is it raining there?"  Most days it has been, or it will be.  I tell him, "It sure has been raining here."

Rain is soaking into farmers' fields for next spring; making promises of new seedlings and flowers.  It is overfilling the little pond by our apartment, pushing the waterline a foot or so into the lawn.  The orange coy that live there are exploring the grass, bobbing along the blades underwater. I've been wearing my boots, wrapping my raincoat around my shoulders, and drinking lots of tea. 

Tea is customary for rainy days in my house.

As I pour mug after mug of steaming chai, Constant Comment, herbal tea, or Lipton, I drink to my husband's health and happiness.  Take care of yourself in Oregon, Jason!