Summer Rain in Winter

Rain enchants me. Always has. Our firstborn son’s middle name attests to this: Rain. He isn’t named after just any rain, I hasten to add. He’s named after a particular kind of rain, the kind of rain that arrives for the first time in the merry month of May, the kind of rain that power-washes the filthy streets of Montreal in late spring: namely, summer rain.

We pay attention to the things we love. Careful attention. And I love rain. So when it rained today in Montreal, I couldn’t help but notice that something wasn’t right. This wasn’t the winter rain made famous by Guns N’ Roses; it was a summer rain.

I’ve never seen anything like it: a summer rain in February. It was extremely weird. But I’d be lying if I said it wasn’t beautiful. Because it was beautiful: the sound of it sublime, the smell of it intoxicating. And yet I’m left with a deep sense of foreboding.

—John Faithful Hamer, Blue Notes (2017)

About John Faithful Hamer

John Faithful Hamer is a college professor who still can't swim, drive, or pay his bills on time. His sense of direction is notoriously unreliable, yet he'd love to tell you where to go. His lack of practical skills is astounding, and his inability to fix things is renowned, yet he'd love to tell you what to do. His mismanagement of time is legendary, as is his inability to remember appointments, yet he fancies himself a philosopher and would love to tell you how to live. He wouldn't survive in a state of nature, of that we can be sure; but he's doing quite well in the big city, which has always been a refuge for the ridiculous, a haven for the helpless, and a friend to the frivolous.

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