Last night I couldn’t sleep. This isn’t like me, I can normally sleep standing up, eyes open and talking. Ok, so maybe an exaggeration, but you get the idea. My eyes wouldn’t even shut. I just lay, hot and uncomfortable next to the open sash window, watching the voile curtain not move. Everything felt stifled and wrong.
And then it came – that soft pitter-patter of a thousand, tiny dancing feet. They fell slowly at first, playfully and with those first steps landing gracefully on the pavement below, my eyes closed. But I was not going to sleep, not yet, there was more to come – I could feel it in every pore. As the tiny toes tapping on the pane turned to heavy heart beats, the first breath of air came through the veil of the open window. A cool, intoxicating scent of grass and tarmac and mud flooded in and every hair on my neck tickled to a stand still.
I did not need to move though, I did not need to hang my head through the window or attempt to catch the drops as they fell. I knew what I would see; that strange orange glow of the street light that always makes this seem like a place unknown to me; the flickering blue TV glow of the terrace bedrooms opposite; the gush of the broken drain pipe just to the right, barely even trying to funnel the storm water; a purpleness above; and rain drops. The kind of rain drops that, if during the day, would make me go and stand in the road without Wellington boots.
My brain began to fizzle out the day’s burning questions, my back eased and a smile crept across my dozing face. I love the rain. I love the sudden change from hideous heat to the shivering cold of a freshly brewed storm. I am a storm girl through and through, a cold weather babe; fascinating, unpredictable, ferocious, beautiful, uncontainable, changeable, irrational, intense, emotional, romantic, real.
With these happy thoughts, I succumbed to dream of stormy seas and wind tossed skies and sail away into a happy sleep.
(Just to ruin the mood – a thought, ney a memory has suddenly come to me. In my high school year book, a male friend wrote that I reminded him of the ocean. Not because I was stormy and romantic, but because I made him feel seasick! Strange the things we remember!)