I’m getting used to the rain. It has been such a steady presence these last few days. Tomorrow will be wet too, so our weekend will see almost no sunshine.
There’s a stillness to the days that seems to grow from the numbing rhythm the drops beat to. It’s a kind of white noise – like the air conditioner when it’s warming the house up or the radio when you’re on the highway and fall out of range.
An ikea flat pack leans casually on the shoe rack biding time till we take to it with an alan key… a filing cabinet sits wrapped up and waiting to be given a place in the spare room (as soon as we can reshuffle things)… two trestle table legs standing in line in the middle of the living room seem to beckon “put us in the spot you’ve planned for us”…
The sun has set and the white noise and waiting seem very loud – it’s all I can do not to jump up and zip around like a mad woman. I need this time though, to sit and be still.
The rain keeps drumming, the dark keeps growing, the little lights on the modem blink a little sleepily in my peripheral vision.
When I sleep tonight I think I’ll dream of rain. Cold, soaking rain. Then I’ll wake up and realise I’m just hearing things… rainy things to be exact.
For now, I’m just thinking about the day – moving furniture from one side of Sydney to the other, riding perched up in the big van we hired to move it, listening to the rain beat on while I edited photos, starting the day with banana pancakes, feeling the little stings of icy rain all day on my nose and hands.