The rains have started. They don't come every day. They haven't come for nearly a week now. But some afternoons (usually the ones when my jeans are hung out on the line to dry), the clouds roll in, announcing themselves with rumbles of thunder. Everyone closes their windows and stands at their doors or under awnings to watch the poor souls who have some mission that takes them outside during the downpour.
It usually rains for about an hour. The paved streets dry quickly. The mud next to the road becomes dust by the next day, two days at the most. The unpaved rural roads fare less well, becoming rutted and slippery.
Mercifully, the rains also bring cool air. And they bring relief from the monochromatic hot season. Yellow no longer dominates the countryside: now not only the palms are green but the fields as well.
School is over. Wedding season is over. Planting season has begun.
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