After last year's record rains in Southern California, the rumor was that this year would be drier than usual. Perhaps it will be. One day does not a wet season make. Still, it is jarring to have the heavens open up on January 2 and rain on the Rose Parade.
It has not rained on the Rose Parade in 51 years. The pattern of weather in California accounts for much of that record. The weather here is a Mediterranean climate. Instead of the four seasons much renowned in American culture, we have two: a long, warm, dry season, followed by a cooler, shorter rainy season. There might be a mist in the summer but it rarely accumulates and can usually be attributed to the June gloom, a marine layer that settles in every morning and burns off latter in the day. There might be a light rain in September, a storm or two in November and December, but most of the heavy rain does not hit until after the New Year. In the 23 years I have lived here, February has been particularly ugly.
Even discounting the advantage of the timing of the Rose Parade, it did seem to be a charmed event. I can remember several years watching the rain in the days before the parade and thinking it would never clear in time, only to have the sun peek through just in time. Storms seemed to miraculously hold off until the next day, hovering just offshore while the floats made almost completely of flowers marched in brilliant sunshine down Colorado Boulevard tempting a few thousand more people to make plans to move to Paradise.
On Friday, on the way home from work, we stopped to pick up a parking pass for this year's Rose Parade. We have clients with office space on Colorado Boulevard. My husband and one of my daughters planned to rise before 6 am on a holiday, drive into Pasadena and watch the parade from folding chairs with a supply of hot chocolate and doughnuts. We talked about what we would do if it rained but it was the same conversation we have about what we'll do when the government finally announces there really were aliens at Roswell.
Last night, the unthinkable became thinkable. As it poured rain outside the windows, we decided no one would go if it was still raining. At about 5:30 this morning, the patter on the skylight stopped and the silence woke me out of my sleep. "Aha," I thought without coming fully awake "I knew it would stop." I started to get up to rush them out the door but the rain started up again in a minute.
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