My former host Mom and I and my friend Caterín drove over to the building site today. We oohed and aahed at the progress. I will be traveling to Seattle in a few days. My flight lifts off August 6th. It will be good to be back in the Puget Sound area for the entire month of August. I have so much to do there, including seeing my docs at the VA Hospital and my orthopedic surgeon about my damaged arm. It, however, will be much more pleasant to return to La Paz the 4th of September to see how the planted seed is growing.

What can I say about the rainy season. When it rains it pours? Yes indeed it does. Some days it’s a nice gentle rain in the late afternoon though, the rising fecund odor of wet earth lifting the spirits, nudging ancient thoughts, permeating the senses, stimulating deep breaths as I thank the stars that I live here in this beautiful land surrounded by friends. Other times thunder and lightning and torrents of water whipped by arbitrary winds assault my windows. On occasion the sun and clouds dance across the sky sketching colorful sunsets as the evening phases to night. Sometimes the multiple cloudbursts pass quickly, often they last through the night drenching everything, the morn birthing the countryside greener. The union of the two raging creeks in my corner of the world roar outside my bedroom window while Mother Gaea, oblivious, does her thing.

I learned today that our financial benefactor agreed to pave the road seen here in both directions in front of the new Hogar. After all, how can one have such a beautiful building erected with a muddy road in front when it rains. The rainy season is from May to November and it rains a lot. That’s my Chevy stepside 1989 pickup I bought recently looking east. I loaded up all the kids in the back when we went to swim in the river a few weeks ago.