secret rain

i realize just now it might have been the first May rain.  some minutes ago.  it woke me up, it being so unexpected.  it was so warm and humid last night, starry too.  no trace of red clouds, or wind when i walked the dog.  when the rain came, the first thought was finally a break of coolness, some draft through the windows left open.  then of the clothes left hanging on the clothesline in the yard.  i got up from bed and walked to the other end of the room, parted the curtains. partly thought of maybe dashing to save what can be saved of the what-ever still partly-dry clothes.  then decided against it.  W* who now sleeps under the newly made bed just looked at me and didn't even bother to move.

went downstairs to have a glass of water and of course couldn't get back to sleep.  wrote some while the rain pelted.  checked emails and a call for submission.  thought of the graduate papers that still need evaluating.  opened the file but didn't read it; noting it instead as a box of to-do tomorrow. listened to the rain slowly easing itself.  calming down.  into no more than drops.  

now listening closely, there are actually sounds of crickets. a motor at a distance.  and my eyes, having adjusted to the lack-light, find it is not really so dark after all this time of the night.  lamp post light seeps partly through the curtains.  and the white light from the laptop i've put on the bed.  it occurs to me now: maybe it was not really the first rain this long summer.  maybe it has rained secretly, nights, leaving only the telltale moist on the grass i mistake as mist by early morning.