I’m afraid I didn’t quite keep track of when it started raining. Perhaps it was July 3 (if it wasn’t earlier). Since then it has stopped raining for an hour or two a few times. The lawns get flooded whenever the tide comes in, and the water drains out slowly through the ground when the tide recedes. We live on borrowed land, after all (a friend sent me a photo from the 1950s showing the open sea where we live now). The rain hasn’t stopped long enough for the gang of crows to crowd flooded parts of the lawn looking for little tidbits flushed out by the waters (this two years old photo was thrown up by the photos reminder). So they have been crowding the windowsill of our kitchen, trying to look in!
More rain, more crows

The crows looking in the window would scare me. Shades of Hitchcock’s « The Birds »
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I know that was scary. These aren’t, but they are inquisitive.
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That’s okay then!
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🙂
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Curious Crows!
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🙂
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I’ve always thought that as well about Bombay, all reclaimed land. I’d sometimes think that if one dug deep enough, the sea would come gushing up! 🙂
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There are stories that inside the Metro cinema would have an inch of water during high tide. If the stories are not apocryphal, then this would have been before the sea wall at Marine Drive was built.
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We believe a woman we know was affected by “seasonal affective disorder,” or SAD, an acronym someone made up to describe people who become depressed during the winter due to the lack of sunlight. Are there people in India similarly affected during the monsoon?
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I’m not sure. You don’t have to stay inside during the rains, because it is warm. It is only in July that you might have two weeks of constant overcast. I guess the equivalent of the syndrome you are referring to might not occur.
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