The rains came last night. After a warm and somewhat muggy day the weather men predicted fresher weather and for once they were right, by the bucket load. I lay in my bed listening to the drumming of the heaviest rain we've had for months, soothed by what is one of my favourite sounds. The urge to get up and go walk in it was very strong, although not quite strong enough to overcome the utter exhaustion that seems to have overtaken me lately so I contented myself with simply lying there listening.
From earliest childhood I have had a close relationship with the rain; I love the sound of it, feel of it, the look of it. There is something inspiring about a brooding grey sky, heavy with the promise of a good downpour. My whole family is the same; it must be something in the genes. Only this morning I got a message from my mother telling me she was off out to a local beauty spot for the day with some friends and she was the only one pleased it was raining!
Some of my happiest memories have been created in the rain. From childhood holidays in the mountains when the weather was never allowed to spoil our week away, to sleeping in the car on the cliffs or the moors listening to the rain drum on the roof; it is the soundtrack to my life. I have danced in the rain, sang in the rain, even washed my hair in the rain (you should try that, its the best its ever felt), I feel alive, truly alive, in the rain.
So I'm making up a flask of coffee and a sandwich and heading to the beach where I can watch the storm churned sea come rolling in under a leaden sky as I have my lunch and let the power of the sea and sky wash over me, recharging me, inspiring me. And then I'll take off my shoes and roll up my jeans and go for a paddle...a bit of silliness to make my day.