Wednesday, September 28, 2005
On this morning´s ride from the Asturias airport to Ovinana, the cab driver gave me a lesson on rain. Like Eskimos with snow, the asturianos have their own words for the different kinds of rain that fall. The most common is the the orbayu, that light, misting rain that sometimes seems like it will never end.
Our conversation reminded me how much I love Asturias, even though the orbayu was falling as I thought about it. And then we arrived.
I hadn´t been at the mill in almost two months, so there was the usual dampness, and mold, and dead insects to deal with. But unexpected was the blue tarp covering the rear of our car like a diaper. Afraid of what I would find underneath, I looked anyway: there was the back window, shattered into a million slivers, with one rock shaped hole in the middle.
Into every life...