The rain had been steady all afternoon, the kind that softens the light and deepens the scent of the redwoods. By the time guests began to arrive, the grounds shimmered. Every leaf held its own small mirror of the evening sky. I stood beneath the covered porch, watching headlights curve up the drive, and thought: Of course it would rain the night the industry meets the redwoods. Alisa speaking to the group from the Garden, everything slightly wet, making for a surreal evening
