“Traveling—it leaves you speechless, then turns you into a storyteller.”― Ibn Battuta
From time to time, I’ll be sharing stories from my travels. They will be a collection of “postcards” from the road. Unlike my other work, these posts will not be essays. Rather, they will be un-edited on-the-go reflections made while staring out car windows, waiting in airport terminals, or enjoying a meal of new and exciting flavors. I hope you enjoy this slight detour in our journey together!
If The Rain Could Talk
It’s been ages since I’ve woken up to the persistent sound of raindrops falling off the roof. The smacking sounds of drops falling on wet cement are the soundtrack to a life I once lived.
The last time I called this region home, rain was common place. It was to be bemoaned, and often left me melancholy. But returning as a tourist, with less of the heaviness brought about by weeks of darkness and rain, it feels delightful. Rain, as it turns out, is nostalgic.
Of course this isn’t in every place where it rains. When we lived in Vietnam, rain was part of our daily routine, ducking under a nearby awning to wait out the torrential downpour because it only lasted 10 minutes. Everything was always moist and so the rain didn’t do much to alleviate the humidity, or make it worse. Rain was a part of the landscape rather than a weather pattern. It excited the scents lurking in spoiled meats and murky river banks.
In the desert, rain feels like a prayer. Beating down on the parched earth, rain here is hot and dusty. The land is unrelenting and any water that falls will flow in impromptu streams that converge into rivers and pools where the few animals that call the desert home gather, predator and prey, both understanding the sacred connection between fresh water and peace.
Unlike the desert where the rain is hot and dusty, or in Southeast Asia where the rain is pungent and persistent, the rain from the Northwest is cathartic. It’s rich and earthy and there’s a hint of magic as it falls.
Like a secret portal, rain in the Northwest is something like a memory, conjuring up a mixture of emotion and nostalgia. It’s rejuvenating, restorative and grounding. It’s also heavy, evocative, and at times oppressive.
Everywhere we go, rain is different. It brings with it an emotion quality that reflects its landscape and highlights the value of water around the world. It’s bemoaned, relished, and common place. It is water. Simple and sustaining.
2 Comments
Michael
I can hardly wait!!
Sharing is so thoughtful…
At least I can experience it through it
anon gray
Thank you Michael. I’m so glad to hear you’re enjoying it! 🥰