The Windows

The first few spits would spatter loudly against the window pane.

"Check the windows!" my mum would shout a second later.

We would race around the house, searching for windows with tell-tale rain already splashing against them or putting our hands up to each flyscreen to detect any drops. Western and northern windows would be shut. Southern and eastern windows usually stayed open.

I never thought about this strangeness until recently. Why not shut all the windows? This afternoon I realised why - it's stifling being shut in. Having half of them open let in the blessed breeze that the storm brought with it. Clever mum. No air conditioning back then.

The cool breeze lifted the hair on our hot necks as we watched the lightning storm flicker around the horizon from the sunroom. If the rain changed direction, we would squeal and run around the house again, closing and opening glass panes.

Tonight, I'm here at the farm house all alone. It's kind of spooky. But at least if the rain comes, I know what to do.

Sun and Rain

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I’m beginning to believe that I run on solar energy. When there’s no sun, like today, I feel drained and lethargic. I feel like staying in bed under the covers and just daydreaming the daylight (or more accurately, murklight) hours away.

This morning I woke to the sound of rain on the roof – good, steady rain of the sort that we need. The garden and lawns have been crying out for some moisture for some months now. The sky was grey and has remained so all day. Sitting in my little office block, I am periodically peeking out the window, hoping for a patch of blue. But the sky remains steadfastly dark and forbidding. I have a good view across the Brisbane River and south towards Logan, and I can’t even see the suburbs today for the mist of rainclouds.

My mood is as gloomy as the weather. I know I should be grateful for the life-giving water and the wonderful greening effect it will have on my lawn, but I can’t help it – I just crave the sun. Sunlight warms my bones, recharges my spirit. Sun is life just as much as water is, and a hot summer’s day reminds me of my childhood and holidays at the Gold Coast filled with sand, the ocean, ice cream and afternoon naps.

Sometimes on a hot day when I’ve been sitting shivering in my (too old, never working properly) office air-conditioning for a few hours, I escape. I burst out of the elevators and propel myself forth, out onto the concrete footpath and into the light. I immediately feel better. I love feeling the warmth seeping up from the concrete below my feet, and basking in the sun’s rays shining down from above. My feet will inevitably take me to the nearest corner store, to get a cold iced tea or frozen slushie to enjoy back at my desk.

With the weather forecast predicting quite a few days of rain, I also have this strange sense of foreboding that I’m finding hard to shake. It’s this vague feeling of dread that when I really examine, I have to admit to myself is related to the Big Wet. The January Floods left an indelible mark on our state, and my brain is trying to remind me that all started like this. With the rain. The unrelenting, unforgiving, never-ending rain. It rained in December and out West flooded. It stopped for a few days over New Year but then it started raining again with a vengeance. And it didn’t stop for two weeks. What happened after was just so terrible, it must not, CANNOT happen again.

Here’s hoping it won’t rain like that again this year. Here’s hoping the sun will come out again soon and we have one of those long, hot summers that I remember from my childhood. Besides, I want to swim in my pool… and eat ice cream… and go to the beach… and nap in the afternoon…

On rain

Today I'm thinking about rain. Because despite it being December, it's been uncharacteristically wet this year. It feels like it has been raining for a month, and I'm just so darn sick of it!

December and Xmas time in Queensland should be sunny and unrelentingly hot. My days should be spent loving the air conditioning in my office and going home to jump in the pool for half an hour before dinner. Instead, it's just rain, rain, rain; plus the added bonus of sporadic flooding and hail to go with it.

Now, don't get me wrong, I am as romantic as the next person about the gentle sound of rain on the roof, and the wonderful smell of damp earth about a shower... but this is getting ridiculous!

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