Rain In Season

The sun came out today, after days of clouds and buckets of rain, floods and tears, the sun came out today.

In the wee hours of the morning, outside the window it stormed. The gusting winds, blew the curtains so high, billowing like sails on a clipper ship, then they snagged the mosquito netting hooks in the ceiling to remain ever suspended in the air, waiting. The laurel tree, brushed against the edge of the roof galvanise, aching with longing, or was it futilely rebelling against the pushing currents. Moaning, a siren song of want through the other trees in the back yard, we, curling up deeper into the bedclothes. Eventually the rain came back, lashing against the half closed windows, mercilessly beating the plants and ground, thudding droplets.

The pillows were so soft and comforting, the sheets and blanket a welcome weight, warding off the chill of outside, creating a snug little haven. Even the dog, longing for some comfort, draped himself over his human's feet; warm, he stirred briefly when a window sash blew loose, the window banging against the frame until shut by half awake Wallah. On and on it went. The skies cloudy, yet not dark, reflecting the streetlights, struggling against the gloaming. But for the wind and rain, all was quiet, no morning sounds of kettles whistling, newspapers being unfolded, passers-by on their way to work calling greetings to one another, no dogs barking at the before dawn joggers. Barely, swish went car tires on the flooded street outside. Time standing still against nature.

No reason yet to get up. Still time to dawdle between the sheets secure in sleep. Hunkering down even deeper, loath to be disturbed, loving the elemental scene outside from the security of bed. Alas, all too soon, morning's watery light, pushed back against the clouds and a few feeble rays fumbled over the curve of the hill. Dog needing breakfast and walkies, wind dying to a quiet hush, rain lightly pattering. Reluctantly pushing back the covers, pouring out the dog food and constructing the first cup of coffee to take the edge off the chill. Feet in slippers, dog on leash; The cosy light from the kitchen, showing through the doorway illuminating the steps and a short walk around the back, water dripping off the yard, edge of the roof, walls and plum tree. The earth washed clean and new, the air almost humming, alive.