The Rains
May 9, 2012 
The rains are here and mornings dawn cold and grey. At night we are kept awake by the sound of it drumming on our tin roof; everything is damp, mould grows freely in cupboards and on clothes and I sit here typing this wrapped in a big sheepskin coat with, for once, slippers on my feet. Last night the flying ants came, they arrive in ones and twos, attracted by our lights, but then before you know it they have multiplied and the air is thick. They fly in complete panic for many minutes and then fall to the ground, lose their wings, look for a mate and then die. Just like that. In the mornings we sweep up their bodies and gossamer wings and wait for the next time they’ll take flight.
I love this time of year. I love how our forest is so green, I imagine everything growing underfoot and if I sat there long enough I would probably see it grow. I drove down off the farm yesterday, and the stream at the bottom was in full flood. I sat and contemplated it for a while, wondered if my study old station wagon would withstand the force of water, or get swept down on to the rocks instead. But no time for second thoughts, places to go and restless energy at my heels, so we forded the river and roared out the other side.
Most days though I don’t leave the farm preferring to sit perched up here on the hill, catching only the odd glimpse of our mountain and watching the weather as she moves past.
Reader Comments (18)
You always leave me breathless with your beautiful and ethereal descriptions of the world in which you live. Stunning imagery. Love..love...love!
Watching weather move, I wish the rain would move here... we want summer or at least spring...
i read this on your blog and simply had chlls then and today...again!
Magic!
What an interesting capture! Oh how I love "eye candy" first thing in the morning! Could look at this for hours!
Your description makes me homesick for Liberia - the coming of the rainy season, the new, intense green as the laterite dust gets washed from the world, the children collecting the "bugabugs" into dishpans for roasting over the fire.
There's nothing like hearing the rain approach through the bush - I always wonderful from what distance we could first hear it. I can hear yours now.
What a wonderful life, Eliza. I love thinking of you there.
I am so thankful you have these rains and idyllic times to cherish there on your mountain, Eliza. I know for a fact that life is not always a bowl of cherries there. But you have much for which you are thankful and have absorbed it enough to pass it on to us so beautifully, almost by osmosis. I could reach out and touch it...if not see it. Thank you.
Just pure, complete magic!
You have transported me there with you. I am not too sure I would like all that mould growing everywhere, but I can imagine how the rain has made everything more beautiful with intensified colours.
I wouldn't leave either if I were you. You've painted another beautiful picture for us to ponder.
This is such a beautiful post - I love it. I can see you in your sheepskin coat and her the rain on the roof. Or see you sitting next to the road. Youy writing is so descriptive that I have the images in my head, and it is beautiful. It feels like being there.
i can see you there, sweeping up gossamer wings... just lovely.
Your rains are magic Eliza :-)
Like you, I love the rain. I love the way the air seems cleaner, the trees seem greener, and the flowers seem to smile a little happier after a rain. Always enjoy visiting your part of the world through your Vision and Verb.
I can't say it better than Marcie did. You have a way of transporting me to an unfamiliar place and giving the gift of that experience
Go on, don't stop, tell me more ...
I like the time after the rain - when colors are bright, everything is green and fresh... As always, I loved reading your post.