Rain - Memories and metaphors

Some thoughts on the reasons for the title of this site

I grew up celebrating rain in all its forms.

I have strong memories of standing on our family's porch whenever a Sydney summer storm came through, watching the lightning and rain and listening to the storm crash over head. Feeling delighted and alive. Then, once the storm had passed, we were always thrown out of the house to go and play in the water rushing down the gutter of our outer suburban street.

I still do this. Sometimes standing outside or dancing in the downpour.

A rainy day in Sydney - photo by me

We were a camping family which leads to a sort of weather pragmatism. You see the countryside in drought and the difference rain makes. I find the sound of rain on a tent to be soothing - as long as I am very confident it's water-tight! It's also meant that I don't mind getting rained on a bit, I know I'll dry off and in the meantime I've been part of the outside life.

And then there's the smell of rain, the petrichor. I love the smell of our petrichor, it speaks of a dry place, where eucalyptus vapour fills the air.

These are some of the reasons I resonate with rain, but then there's a couple of specific instances that solidified this as a 'thing' for me.

Deliberately dancing in the rain

Grasping the moment and feeling alive

One of my most treasured memories occurs on a Friday night in Sydney.

I was at the Civic Hotel with some work mates. As we were drinking and laughing a storm crashed over head. One of the people looked at me and said "come on, let's go dance in the rain!"

I remember being resistant. How would I dry off? It wasn't 'normal'. Dancing in public!? As an adult!? It had been a long time since the childhood days of playing in the rain.

He was so keen, so eventually I caved and joined him for the impromptu boogie in the rain on a footpath on Goulburn Street.

It was wonderful. No-one cared what we were doing. We laughed and danced and enjoyed the weather.

The dance rekindled the wilder part of me. The bit that had been shoved into a box of 'proper' with the onset of a career and a particular group of friends. It had been tucked away as I moulded myself to fit in.

I'd been reminded how important it was to be alive and to do things in the moment, to be a part of all the weather cycles. And to have such celebratory joy.

Those feelings, this attitude is core to who I am, and I'd been betraying it.

Soon after, that colleague died unexpectedly. It's been over 15 years and I am still sad, but grateful. A bright spark that shared such an unexpectedly amazing moment.

Becoming a "child of the rain gods"

How I struck a deal with the rain gods. OK, not really, instead it's about bringing joy and connection to a situation that's often perceived as annoying.

I have friends who call me a rain witch, others their human umbrella. This is because in general I don't get rained on, unless I want to be, or I am heading directly home, and they've seen this often enough to be intrigued. Or to join the joke. The most memorable time was when a three day camping festival was hit with an east coast low. Everyone else was soaked and I'd stayed dry the entire time.

Somehow anytime I need to be outside there's a break in any rain. I rarely get drenched unless I'm on my way home.

It's probably the result of years of camping, bushwalking and being encouraged to watch the weather. I can look at clouds, feel the air and make a judgement. I also map my paths through any city to take advantage of awnings and tunnels, and I'm happy to adjust my plans to wait out the weather.

Eventually, I decided that I'd struck a deal with the rain gods, to not be rained on, much. An idea that came from a Douglas Adams novel, as many good ideas do:

“And as he drove on, the rainclouds dragged down the sky after him, for, though he did not know it, Rob McKenna was a Rain God. All he knew was that his working days were miserable and he had a succession of lousy holidays. All the clouds knew was that they loved him and wanted to be near him, to cherish him, and to water him.” - Douglas Adams, So Long, and Thanks for All the Fish

And whether or not there are rain gods is irrelevant. Instead, this mindset enables me to move with a situation I cannot control. It lets me revel in that situation, treating it a secret in-joke. To see the beauty in rain and the changeability of weather.

Which, in the end, isn't a bad frame for life overall. It can't be sunny all the time, so, how are we going to read situations, adjust for them and try to find a lighter side for those moments we can't control.