Showing posts with label Jambes de Pluie. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Jambes de Pluie. Show all posts
Thursday, July 9, 2026
Friday, June 26, 2026
Monday, June 29, 2015
Tuesday, September 16, 2014
Saturday, June 8, 2013
Samida's Voice
One of the things that I love the most about our South Louisiana culture is the observance of feast days of the saints and holy days in the Church. They are like mini-holidays that mark the mundane weeks and months. I love the lore that they hold, and the way that they connect us to our French past. I especially like to observe the feast day of Saint Medard, June 8. When I started to ask questions to my family about local history, "the Samida", as they called it, was always one of the first things to come up. They said that if it rains on this day, it will rain for forth days. If it is dry, there will be a dry spell for 40 days. I loved how my family called it le Samida (it soudned like Sammy-Da). I also especially loved observing the weather on that day, and since it falls at the beginning of the summer season of humidity and looming afternoon storms, it usually will rain, unless we are in drought. I remember years not too long ago when farmers were praying to the Saint for rain.
With the storms that blow out here on the prairie come the occasion to see les jambes de pluie, the legs of the rain, the local appellation for the streaks that form when falling rain is visible from a distance. I imagine that they were the legs of the Saint, walking across the land, bringing rain with his steps. Today, true to form and seemingly out of the blue, he appeared from the west. I saw les jambes de pluie approach, and, when the storm was upon us, that his legs were actually made of twin lightning strikes. I even heard his voice:
By the time the storm was hot pink and grey on the Prairie des Femmes, the lights had gone out and it was high time for our afternoon coffee. There was gas for a fire but no water pressure. Lucky I had collected rainwater in a basin on the porch, and so I was forced to drink some Saint Medard rainwater coffee milk. Right after that, the rain stopped and in the east appeared a rainbow. I even think I saw Samida smile.
With the storms that blow out here on the prairie come the occasion to see les jambes de pluie, the legs of the rain, the local appellation for the streaks that form when falling rain is visible from a distance. I imagine that they were the legs of the Saint, walking across the land, bringing rain with his steps. Today, true to form and seemingly out of the blue, he appeared from the west. I saw les jambes de pluie approach, and, when the storm was upon us, that his legs were actually made of twin lightning strikes. I even heard his voice:
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| Samida in the west coming across the Prairie des Femmes |
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| Rain arrives from the West in Acadiana on the Feast of Saint Medard |
By the time the storm was hot pink and grey on the Prairie des Femmes, the lights had gone out and it was high time for our afternoon coffee. There was gas for a fire but no water pressure. Lucky I had collected rainwater in a basin on the porch, and so I was forced to drink some Saint Medard rainwater coffee milk. Right after that, the rain stopped and in the east appeared a rainbow. I even think I saw Samida smile.
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| Samida's upside down smile |
Sunday, September 2, 2012
Summer of Storms
The summer of 2012 was full of storms. It rained nearly every day for three months. There were storms of all kinds, from every direction, even out of nowhere.
Around here they say that if it rains on the feast day of Saint Medard, the 8th of June, that it will rain for forty days afterwards. This year, it rained a few days before the 8th, on it, and after it for two weeks. Then there was a little two week break, then July came. It rained every day in July except the 31st. There were long rains, afternoon rains that diminished the heat but made the night heavier than ever. In August there were daily downpours and a hurricane. There were other storms, too. All summer, there were navy blue clouds walking on jambes de pluie, fog, and flood across the Prairie. There were were black snakes in the tall grass that never got cut because of the rain and the broken tractor sitting in the rain. So we stayed inside, shut out from the heat and humidity, bugs and snakes. It was so mild last winter that the insects swarmed in the spring and everyone got fleas.
Between the storms and serpents and plagues many gifts fell on the Prairie, comme les bras de soleil. There were lots of birds. A few times on the dirt road I saw the fanned cream and white tail feathers of a marsh hawk swoop next to my car, close enough to touch. There were owls who stood on the road and flew up to a low branch to let me pass, eyes round. There was a big ole great white heron flying in the crepescule of the evening. Many cardinals zipping around the bamboo. One evening, while I was sitting on the porch, a rainbow painted bunting landed next to me and stayed for a minute.
Around here they say that if it rains on the feast day of Saint Medard, the 8th of June, that it will rain for forty days afterwards. This year, it rained a few days before the 8th, on it, and after it for two weeks. Then there was a little two week break, then July came. It rained every day in July except the 31st. There were long rains, afternoon rains that diminished the heat but made the night heavier than ever. In August there were daily downpours and a hurricane. There were other storms, too. All summer, there were navy blue clouds walking on jambes de pluie, fog, and flood across the Prairie. There were were black snakes in the tall grass that never got cut because of the rain and the broken tractor sitting in the rain. So we stayed inside, shut out from the heat and humidity, bugs and snakes. It was so mild last winter that the insects swarmed in the spring and everyone got fleas.
Between the storms and serpents and plagues many gifts fell on the Prairie, comme les bras de soleil. There were lots of birds. A few times on the dirt road I saw the fanned cream and white tail feathers of a marsh hawk swoop next to my car, close enough to touch. There were owls who stood on the road and flew up to a low branch to let me pass, eyes round. There was a big ole great white heron flying in the crepescule of the evening. Many cardinals zipping around the bamboo. One evening, while I was sitting on the porch, a rainbow painted bunting landed next to me and stayed for a minute.
Wednesday, August 22, 2012
Les Jambes de Pluie
It was the rainiest summer in a long time, it seems, at least out here in Prairie. It rained before and after (and on in most areas) St. Medard, the 8th of June, and then it rained for more than forty days total afterward, with maybe a two week break in there. There were lots of chances to photograph les jambes de pluie, the legs of the rain.
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| les jambes de pluie marching across the millet fields of the PDF on the eve of St. Médard |
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| jambes on the Opelousas Road |
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| jambes to the southwest |
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| les jambes de pluie sur la plairie |
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| jambes a Whiteville |
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| Jambes à Lanse de Tate |
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