i’m not sure what it is exactly about the plum rains, those rains that come usually in may but may have been too early (in march) or not come at all this year. that’s what people have been saying. however, the sustained rain that’s come in, complete with low clouds covering all but the feet of the mountains, feels a bit like plum rains in june. i’m not generally one for a long string of rainy days–don’t like how it makes all of my clothes begin to go sour in the humidity–still, i like the cool of the plum rains and the excuse that it gives me to stay at home to write, read, or just rest. of course, there is also the common saying around here that rainy days are drinking days

of course trying to do any recording work during the rainy season is difficult, so i often write the period of the plum rains off for anything requiring microphones, even indoors, as the sound on metal roofs is, to borrow a phrase from bertie wooster, “quite a squash”

that’s a shame because the rains tend to focus and soften sound. distant sounds and even the normal keynote of the ocean get washed out by the tapping white noise generator, and the atmosphere becomes more intimate, softened and a bit sibilant

more than that, the plum rains remind me of the important sounds that we have to convey through text and quotation because we cannot adequately record them. this sounds probably make up a greater number than the ones readily captured with our available technology