A childhood belief about weather

The Sky is Dirty

When I was very small, we lived in southern California, where it never rains in the summer - just months and months of cloudless, blue skies. The interval between spring and fall rains was long enough that a 3-year old might not have developed enough memory retention yet to recall last time it rained.

So, one day when I was just about 3 or so, I awakened to a dark grey sky. It was cold, which felt strange and uncomfortable. My mom dressed me in a little sweatshirt she retrieved from the cedar chest. I did not remember the shirt; yet I knew it was "mine". It was strangely familiar despite the weird smell from being stored away with moth balls. It was also too small, and mom had to tug pretty hard to get it over my head.

I looked out the window, scowling at the dark grey sky and gumbled, "The sky is dirty!" My mom glanced at me and remarked absently the sky was just cloudy. I didn't get the concept, which left me feeling puzzled and even more grumpy.

Later, I conferred with my best friend about the ugly dirty sky situation. We decided to do something about it. We ran into the house and dragged a high chair and a tall stool out into the yard. We thought climbing on top of the high chairs would put us up plenty high enough for what we needed to do.

My mom looked out the window and saw us on our perches, stretching up and waving dish towels at the sky. Puzzled, she came out and asked what we were doing. We informed her that the sky was dirty and we were going to clean it up! "Ah", she said, and disappeared back into the house where she cracked up with secret laughter. Alas, even the high chair didn't put us up high enough and the sky remained dirty! Later, when it started to rain, I was just amazed to see water falling from the sky. Will wonders never cease?