17 November 2013

Happiness and thunderstorms

Somebody left their umbrella outside.
Result - awesome picture
I wish I was the kind of writer that could describe accurately how much I love storms - thunder, lightning and rain.

When the first thunder signs scrape across the sky and groan in anticipation, it is not unknown for me to clap my hands, grin like a lunatic and even, when the signs are indicative of Mother Nature being particularly cantankerous, for me to engage in a bit of on the spot jigging.  

I love the grumble and scrape of the thunder across the sky, the flash of lightning so bright you do the rapid blink and when the storm moves directly overhead and the thunder makes your body shake with an instinctive thrill. 

I love standing in rainstorms with my arms spread and my face upturned to the sky.  

I love the smell of fresh rain, the pittering sound of a dripping branch and the gurgle of drains swirling and sucking the water back out yonder start all over again. 

I love the luminescence of leaves on suburban trees washed free of city grit and the swish of tyres on shiny black streets.

I love the squelch of bare feet or gumboots in puddles and the slightly acrid smell of spring flowers falling under thick drops of cold fat rain. 

I love the drumming of heavy rain on skylights and the solid warmth of small bodies cuddled to yours under blankets on the couch as the rain drips down the windows and ABC2 diverts their attention from their desire to go jump on the trampoline.

Happiness and rainy sundays -  I salute you.

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