It’s a brilliantly sunny day, but as the clouds continue to amass in formation in the west, Wings asks me, “Is that their ten percent?”
It’s a reference to the weather forecast, which, despite yesterday’s buildup of clouds and perceptible change in the air, remained at zero percent chance for of rain for all but today, for which it predicted a whole ten percent chance.
The likelihood, of course, is that the forecast will turn out to be correct; such storms as may blow up around the horizon may very well be blown around and past us. But his query points up how little we really rely on formal forecasts here, and how much we depend on what our own senses and our knowledge of historical patterns can tell us about changes in weather, climate, season.
And we do need rain; desperately. Despite the relatively heavy levels of precipitation during the winter just past and these first early days of spring (“heavy” really only by comparison to last year, when the drought took its firmest hold of the land yet), “runoff” does not equal “water supply.” Our watersheds are still at record-low levels, all across the region, and the ongoing thaw will not be nearly enough to make up the deficits.
According to the long-range forecast, the first real chance of any precipitation will occur next Wednesday, and even then, the odds are not particularly great. Meanwhile, the mercury will continue to rise into the seventies, unseasonal by any measure, and the ground will continue to dry apace. Dry out, perhaps I should say; it already qualifies as “dry.”
And so, once again, we track the mass and motion of cobalt clouds across cornflower skies. And once again, we pray that they carry rain — not merely in the abstract sense, but rain to be delivered to us here.
Today’s featured work is perhaps useful as a focal point for such meditations, a manifestation of rain’s substance and spirit, a motif around which to structure prayers and hope alike. From its description in the Accessories Gallery here on the site:
Rain Barrette
In the desert, rain is the gift of life. In the midst of near-unprecedented drought, Wings honors the birth of the monsoon season with his latest barrette, formed of medium-gauge sterling silver in a gentle arc, hand-milled in a dot-and-dash pattern that evokes the vertical fall of the heavy summer rain. In the center, a single large raindrop of deep cobalt blue lapis lazuli sits in a handmade bezel elevated above the barrette’s surface by means of a tiny hand-made silver post. At either end, hand-drilled holes hold the pick, a length of sterling silver half-round wire meticulously stamped in an alternating pattern representing cascading water, anchored at one end by a small high-domed oval lapis cabochon so deeply hued as to appear violet, and held securely by a saw-toothed bezel. The barrette is 3-5/16″ long by 1-3/4″ high; the large teardrop lapis cabochon is 1-1/16″ long by 3/8″ across at the widest point; the pick is 3-7/8″ long by 3/16″ across (save at the bezel); the small oval lapis cabochon is 3/8″ long by 1/4″ across at the widest point (dimensions approximate).
Sterling silver; lapis lazuli
$850 + shipping, handling, and insurance
Weather remains stubbornly outside of human control; too often, coping with it does, too. But as spring swings into its yearly rhythms, we know that we shall need much more than we have had to sustain the land properly. Formal forecasts serve as guides, but practice tells us we must put our faith in the reality on the ground and in the skies.
For now, we hang our hopes on the cobalt clouds across cornflower skies, and prayers for silver rain.
~ Aji
All content, including photos and text, are copyright Wings and Aji, 2019; all rights reserved. Nothing herein may used or reproduced in any form without the express written permission of the owner.
