The locals, being farmers pray for rain, whereas, the children all want the sun ...and of course the food that comes from the sun. It's strange how looking back you remember the mindset of a child ...being a teacher helps. Life is about playing, in all senses of the word, eating and trying to figure out what the hell hormones are.
Three days ago the prays of the locals came to fruition... The rain began well technically it started a week ago but the worst of it three days ago.
When it first started I was walking leisurely to the river, not noticing the huge black cloud rolling up behind me getting taller and taller with each step, through the midday sun, that I took. I then jumped into the river swam under the bridge and then, after coming out the other side, witnessed what had been chasing me. With a large clap of thunder and a bolt of lightning striking the ground about 1km away I jumped out of the water, along with three others and we sat under the bridge for an hour as the storm edged eerily across our heads striking the ground with each blast.
Two days later the big storm started thick black, clouds, as if filled with ash and soot, stained the sky. Blocking out the sun and turning this once bright, scorched landscape into a dark, cold and windy land. Then, with a clap of thunder, which I can only describe as being like dropping 100 baking trays onto a tile floor .........after everyone ha gone to bed, the rain came.
The rain here brings a whole new meaning to the term hard water. Thick drops of water fall rapidly from the sky, bouncing off the floor like hail. Litres of water tearing across the roof accompanied by the sound of a gale. However, as all constant sounds, repetitively builds to form background noise of your day.
Until 5am this morning of course.
Woken abruptly by my bed shaking, I panicked thinking I was in an earthquake; to be strangely relieved to find out it was just lightning hitting my roof. Trying to get back to sleep was impossible; with every slip into slumber the room would shake violently, rattling my glass, light surround like a wind-chime. I moved to the other side of the bed ....in case it fell from the ceiling. For two hours I lay there as the room shook violently around me, with every roll of thunder.
The storm has cleared three times in as many days, yet for every time the sun breaks through the thick, black plume, another forms maybe half an hour behind it. As I write this the light and heat from the sun has pierced through the plume; hopefully now for the last time ....However, only time will tell.
