4 O’Clock Rain

I notice how it rains at 0400  —  if it rains at all.  We have had little rain this year.  Wonder where our water is coming from?  What new aquifer is feeding our city’s demand?

I call it 4 o’clock rain because there appears a strategic purpose to it.  They make it rain just before the stars turn down their lights like dimmer-switches and fly away.  Like faint silhouettes they glide across the sky, trying to hide from telephoto lenses.

During this departure phase, the sky is always “treated” with puffy clouds, fogs, mists and more rarely, with 4 o’clock rain.  The “flying bowling balls” need an opacity screen for the spectacle of their departures into a military no-no land.  This I infer due to their sometimes military escort the size and shape of fighter planes. I suspect that they descend into a subterranean, secret place.  Kind of like an under-ground AIMD for nuclear drones.

I say nuclear because the light that they emit when they turn up their dimmer-switches exceeds any brightness heretofore displayed by other means.  And the speeds at which they fly exceed any conventional propulsion mechanism in our world.  Their small size does not leave room for storage of conventional fuels.  So their energy must come from a tiny, high-energy device.  It ain’ no AA battery, I can tell you that.

These observations and digestions, I am aware, make me a candidate for traffic and other accidents.  Vexingly, my mental focus is not where most citizens have theirs, after all — on  the tail lights ahead of them, driving to and from a daily job.

But I watch the road ahead of me.  Daddy used to say while we were flying, “always think a mile ahead of the craft.”


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