Some bees have made a hive inside one of my bedroom walls. I guess I’ll have to tell the landlord about it but I’ve been too busy lately. At night, the bees make a faint ticking sound above my head. I think it’s the sound of them doing whatever it is they do inside the insulation. The sound is almost exactly like the sound of rain and in the middle of the night, I wake up and forget about the bees and I get sort of happy because I love the sound of rain and we’re in the middle of a terrible drought and really need rain here. Then I wake up and remember it was just the bees. It reminds me of when I was a freshman in college and I thought I heard the sound of rain all morning. I was living in a basement apartment on the north side of Berkeley. There was a terrible drought going on then, too, and I had a similar experience. I woke up early, heard the sound of what I thought was rain, and it made me happy. I sat in bed and listened to it for awhile. Then I took a shower, got dressed and opened the apartment door and a hot, dry wind hit me in the face. I quickly discovered that I hadn’t been hearing rain at all. It was the sound of the wind blowing fallen leaves (this was in the fall). I walked out of the courtyard of the apartment complex and looked to the south and saw that the entire sky was black with smoke in that direction. It was the day of the Oakland Hills fire and I spent the rest of it justifiably worried that if the winds shifted, my apartment could burn down.
I suppose the false sound of rain could be a metaphor for something but I’m too tired to think of one.