It's raining in Southern California. I don't mean little mist of a rain but what the old folks call a "gully washer" and that is exactly what it's doing, washing the gullies. California has seasons, I don't care what Easterners say. We have summer, fire and landslide with a few sub-seasons like earthquake, pestilence and award shows.
It's not that we don't get much rain, we think we do, it's just we seem to get it on the heels of the wildfires which must be nature's way of cleaning up all that mess. The unfortunateness of this is people have houses on or below those burnt out areas and will bear the brunt of it all. So, if they dodged the bullet with the fires they'll also need to sidestep the mud. Good luck.
I was at Target yesterday in the middle of this rainstorm and when I moaned to the clerk about how hard it was raining, trying to be helpful, he offered an extra plastic bag for my head.
"Oh gee, no thanks, I think I'll just let my dignity get wet and run to my car."
It was my fault for forgetting, it's only water.