Petrichor

The Smell of Rain After a Dry Spell

OK, so, as I was working on the last post, I knew there was a forecast of possible thunderstorms on Saturday, mostly later. But, as I was editing, I smelled rain.

First, it hasn't rained much in Seattle this summer. July was one of the driest and hottest on record. We had a touch of rain last week, but not enough to actually water anything.

And then...

I smell rain. I hear rain soon after. The smell has been named "petrichor." From Cliff Mass, "A wonderful name combining two Greek roots:  petra (stone) and ichor (the blood of the gods in Greek mythology)."

And I smelled it, and I hear the rain, and I hear thunder in the distance. Hurray!

Yes I know, Seattle is supposed to be rainy all the time, but it's not. In the summer, particularly the second half of July to end of September, we don't have rain much at all. People here, well locals, don't even try to water their lawns. What we do is let them go dry, die back, go into hibernation.

We can always tell the foreigner from the East who is out there trying to keep the grass alive against all odds. (We are essentially on glacial till, sand if you will. There's no soil in most of Seattle. But down in the river valleys, there is probably the most fertile farmland in the temperate world, and it is fast disappearing under industrial parks and condo complexes.)

So as I type, I feel a very humid breeze filled with the smell of rain. I am happy for the rain. I hope that the predictions of lightning in Eastern Washington with the possibility of "lightning without rain" don't come true. The forest on the other side of the Cascades is DRY.