251/365

Our gate guard, Miguel, keeps one clean street. He works constantly to make sure that our little section of pavement, the perpetually dusty road in front of our properties, stays swept. Every morning he can be found sweeping, making piles of dust and dirt and whisking it away (usually to some invisible boundary just past our property and probably into our neighbor's section of street, but I guess that guy doesn't care much...).

But for Miguel, the real challenge comes when it rains. Our neighborhood lies close to the river, less than half a mile as the crow flies, and the drainage goes slow at best. It doesn't take much of a shower to make a pond in the street. Then Miguel really gets to work. He pushes away water until, something akin to Moses, he parts the seas. Sometimes we think he lives for the work after rain.

On this particular day, I came in from Texas, and I drove through a Texas-sized cloudburst on the way in, remnants of Hurricane Katia on the Mexican coast circling over our region. Rain came down in sheets requiring my windshield wipers to wave at full speed and even soliciting that crazy-to-me-south-Texas reaction of driving with your hazard lights on. The rainstorm had not yet reached our location, a bit farther west, but once through the storm, I watched it in the rear view mirror the rest of the way down the road. I saw the dark clouds on the horizon. I knew the rain was coming. I came ready to warn Miguel.

Most days, the conversation with Miguel goes like this:
¿Como estas, hoy? (How are you today?)
Estamos aqui. Va a llover. (We are here. It's going to rain.)
Most days, true, we are here. But most days, alas, it is not going to rain.
Today, I walked to the gate and as he opened it, granted, under very sunny skies, I reported,
¡Hola! Va a llover pronto. (Hello! It's going to rain soon.)
Today Miguel surprised me.
No, no va a llover hoy.
What? He's telling me that no, today it's not going to rain. I laugh!
Vamos a ver! (We'll see!)
He smiles and shakes his head at me and opens the gate.

I go about my business indoors and after a while, I realize- I am hearing more than the fans. I can smell the must of rain in the air. I peek outdoors. It's raining! And at a pretty good rate, besides. I was right. The storm has arrived. The rain doesn't last too very long, and by the time I leave the property again, the skies have cleared. Miguel has the broom out.
Sabía que llover, he tells me. (I knew it would rain.)
Claro que sí! I reply with a grin. (Of course!)