Mountain Musings


Summer Rain


I guess I don’t have to tell you that it’s been a long, hot summer with hardly any rain, ‘cept for that flash flood that snookered Big Bear a week or so ago. I sure wish it would rain some more, just as it did in the days of yore when my lover was sittin’ here beside me.


Summer rain taps at my window, west winds soft as a sweet dream. My love, warm as the sunshine, sitting here by me, yeah, she’s here by me. She stepped out of a rainbow, golden hair shining like moonglow, warm lips, soft as her soul, sitting here by me. Now, she’s here by me. (“Summer Rain – Johnny Rivers – 1968)


Speaking of the days of yore, back in the 60s, when I was a child… come to think of it, I’m still kinda’ childish, I mean, what with these childish musings I write, week after week and the childish jokes and one-liners I tell every week… well, let me give you an example: Why is it that you can never get a reservation at the library? Who knows? Okay, how about you with your hand raised, tell me why you can never get a reservation at the library? Well, it’s rather obvious – it’s cuz they are always booked up. Now, that’s a good example of childish. By the way, if you had read the comics in last week’s paper you would have seen that joke in The Spats.


I’m not sure why I decided to tell you that corny joke. You know what? I’ve often been told that I’m indecisive. Well, the truth is I used to think I was indecisive, but now, I’m not so sure… haardy, haar, haar.


Getting back to those days of yester-year, when I was a kid down in the OC, I used to sit out on the patio during monsoon season and marvel at the thunder and lightning. Then, when a lightning bolt struck a nearby tree. I ran back inside cuz I didn’t want to end up like Art Bell’s friend, Whitley Strieber, who had been struck by lightning three times and survived.


In 1956, when I was 10 years old, I gave nighttime lectures on the stars and planets. This particular summer, when Mars was at its closest distance to the earth, I invited the neighbors over to gaze at the sky, while I gave a lecture about the phenomenon. It wasn’t free – I charged 25 cents for admission. I had gotten most of my information from the Bell Telephone Hour science series films that my Dad brought home from his job as district engineer at Pacific Telephone.


Well, I reckon that’s about all I have for this week. In the meantime, I’d like to see more rain and thunder to keep this dry forest green.


All summer long, we were grooving in the sand, everybody just kept listening to Sgt. Pepper’s Lonely Hearts Club Band…


Keep it flyin’, Uncle Mott