On First snow and Phil Collins II

I had this beautiful post written for when the first rains would come, but the first rains came and never went, and it was more like a downpour, so I never got around posting it. To show how much it rained, and how much the temperature has dropped; we’ve got the first snow. You’ve got to look really well, but it is there, right on the top of Feraya. The Cedars has snow as well, but you can’t see that from my house. The snow capped mountains of Feraya are somewhere in the circle. (Use a looking glass)
The Phil Collins concert was actually quite good. It seems he’s got a problem with his hearing (I read somewhere), so this is supposed to be his final farewell tour, although the poster advertises it as ‘the first final’ farewell tour. Adrian enjoyed it, we sat in a section bought by a local bank, which seemed to have invited all it’s senior high ranking staff; people who probably never heard of Phil Collins or are way to old to get up and boogie. So we had an excellent view, as the six rows in front of us didn’t budge. This particular picture was nicked from someone else's site, and was not taken last night anyway.
But since I wrote this rain post, I’ll post it anyway. It is a little lame, in retrospect.
Today is also my last day in university. This particular professor is getting tremendously on my nerves, it’s a good thing it’s the last day.
I love the coming of the first rains in Beirut. The first signs are usually around dusk. It gets really really hot, and very windy. Not breezy, coming from one direction, but sudden gusts of wind, running trough the street, pushing in between buildings. Bits of paper and plastic supermarket bags fly around high in the air, and dust – inches thick, accumulated over the long summer months – is picked up and flown around. When you sit in your car, and you don’t feel the wind, it looks at first it is as if there is a fire nearby, and the ashes are twirling down. When you’re outside, you have the squeeze your eyes to small slits because the dusts flies thick in the evening air.
People are rushing home, because of the impendent rain, and you hear wooden shutters bang in the distance. The rains won’t come for another five or six hours, when the wind has died again. But those first signs of the upcoming rains are one of my favorite moments in Beirut.