It has been dry here at our little spot on top of the mountain. There has been spotty rain around, but very little of it has fallen on us. Almost three weeks ago we watched as rain moved across town towards us.

There were at least two separate showers, one to the right of this image, and another to the left. The falling rain eventually obscured town. Then it moved closer, obscuring the ridge that is in bright sunlight in this image. We prepared for the rain. I expected raindrops to start falling on the steps down from the porch. We waited.

And then, nothing. It missed us again.

We have watched a band of rain on our weather radar app approaching us and then dissipating or splitting and passing around us many times. I think I have mentioned it before. That sort of thing is not really unusual; rain showers hit one place and miss another all the time. But it has happened so many times that I was beginning to wonder whether there was actually some geological or meteorological phenomenon that made our particular spot on the mountain less likely to get rain.

And then I talked to a bicyclist I see fairly often while I’m walking the dogs. He lives in a neighborhood about four or five miles from us and often climbs the mountain on his rides. He stopped and we talked about rain. He told me that he felt like his particular little spot in his neighborhood was also singled out for drought.

So, two places not far apart that have some strange phenomenon that suppresses rain? I don’t think so. That convinced me that nature’s rain grudge against us was an illusion. It seems like it happens a lot because we notice it when it happens, but we don’t notice it when it doesn’t happen.

But we still need rain.