There’s just something about a rainy day that’s romantic, mystical and satisfying.
Such satisfaction comes when you’re indoors and start to hear the first droplets fall from the sky. They mimic the sound of keys tapping into a typewriter – pit, pat, pat – as they fall one by one against the window and its sill, forming small rivers against the windowpane. It’s even better at night when these thin water lines turn into lines of gold as they capture the streetlamp’s reflection outside.
From here, the direction can go either way – the preliminary showers may wane and cease, or they can accumulate into something grander (I always hope for the latter). It brings a great thrill when the soft patter builds momentum and transforms into a steady, melodious hum of falling water, and the previous rivers along the windowpane begin to merge into a cascading waterfall. The occasional car rolls by – swiiiiiiiish – as it drives over the gathered inch of rain on the road.
Then (if I’m really lucky) the slightest sound of deep, rolling thunder can be heard in the distance. A few minutes later a flash of light appears through the window followed by an even louder boom. Every time lightning appears, it lights up sky and the world below in its eerie blue light, and with each strike comes another roll of thunder that deeper and more deafening than the previous as the thin silhouette of harnessed electricity comes closer and closer.
To see a lightning bolt in person is a breathtaking sight, no matter how many times it may be experienced. It’s because one is so close to one of nature’s greatest powers – such light and energy harnessed in a slim, white streak that reaches the sky. Then to have such a sight followed by an earth quaking roar… altogether, it is one of the great thrills of life.
But all thrills must end or else they become life-threatening horrors. So the lightening travels away as the thunder’s roar grows softer. The humming rain goes back to its original pitter-patter showers till it too begins to cease. Then there’s a point where all that is left is silence and puddles.
Rain on the windowpane (iPhone)
Night Owl Chatter 