Saturday, June 12, 2010

Inja, Don'cha Know

This morning it rained in a way I rarely see hereabouts. It was National Geographic rain, Impressionist painter rain -- monsoon rain.

Woke up to the steady drumming, punctuated by an occasional heavy PLOP! as the larger tree branches above the roof would release heavy droplets of accumulated rain. As the intensity grew, the latter were lost in the onrush. Looked out the window and found the world transformed, the air suffused with water.

The only difference between outdoors and an aquarium was the density. Every fat drop that hit -- and they were nearly having to shove each other out of the way in their mad devotion to gravitation -- every drop exploded into a dozen droplets. It was like a coarse-mesh fog or very thin water, the early-morning light percolating through, slow as syrup and loaded with color, the assorted green of growing things exulting in the wet, charcoal-dark tree trunks, jewel-bright flowers, swaths of flatter color from nearby buildings....

I made my way to the front porch, where Tam was having a morning smoko, book ignored in her hand, gazing out at the water sparkling off roofs, sidewalks, the street. Lawns on the far side seemed distant through the haze; closer, the front yard glowed deep, textured green.

Halfway down the walk, the morning paper waited, wrapped in orange plastic. I thought about it, dry on the porch, then danced down the steps, splashed down the walk, grabbed, turned and ran back, already soaking wet.

As I came to light on the porch, Tam gave me a narrow look. "You'll hurt yourself."

"Didn't this time."

Besides, weather's not a photograph. It's not really raining if you never touched it.

12 comments:

  1. Picture painted.
    Picture viewed.
    Picture perfect.

    Thank you.

    -Scott

    ReplyDelete
  2. Your description of the rain beats the hell out of the photographs I tried to take of similar rain here in the last week.

    (Yes, we're just outside of Seattle. No, we don't normally get that kind of rain here. It was very unusual for these parts.)

    ReplyDelete
  3. What Scott said.

    Jim

    ReplyDelete
  4. The monsoon is a blessing to parched earth, but it also causes flooding and the District Magistrate has to send out boats with relief supplies.

    ReplyDelete
  5. That was some of your best writing.

    ReplyDelete
  6. Wish that I had written that.What Scott said. I third it. Toni

    ReplyDelete
  7. Indeed, I could pretty much feel the rain trickle down my head and body as I reached for a towel.
    Very nice work...

    ReplyDelete
  8. John Peddie (Toronto)June 12, 2010 at 9:38 PM

    Literary talent hiding under the camouflage bushel basket labelled "Alpha Geekete"?

    Mayhap the lady will favour us with further installments of the like?

    ReplyDelete
  9. Perhaps. That style of writing feels very self-indulgent to me and spills over into out-and-out glurge altogether too easily.

    Nevertheless, sometimes it's the only way to wrap memory around the moment.

    ReplyDelete
  10. Late to the party again, but yep, pretty much damn near poetic.

    ReplyDelete
  11. Used to see rain like that back in Illinois. Out here in Kalifornia, the natives would probably think it's the Apocalypse!

    ReplyDelete

Comment moderation is enabled. Your comment will not be visible until approved. Arguing or use of insulting or derogatory language will result in your comment going unpublished: no name-calling. Comments I deem excessively partisan will not be published.