The Rain In Spring
For two days it rained. It had stopped, or had seemed to stop, only last night.
Rain has always been associated with spring - that I know of - though I’m not really sure for it may be different in other places. The two-day rain was so strange that it gave me the feeling that it was winter again. The temperature fell to as low as eleven, which could be some degrees lower in the realm past my nakedness when the chilly wind advected past my body, unprepared for such nature’s wont to be rather quick of temper, a spur-of-the-moment indulging into annoying the nocturnal passersby, I included.
Nakedness. I was not naked. I just didn’t have the proper get-up on to shear the unbearably cold dampness under the sparse rain. On me was a white, long-sleeved, collarless cotton shirt, certainly not enough to defy the cold. I didn’t have umbrella and it was already some twenty or thirty minutes past midnight. I was naked as seen by the drifting leaves that had been desultorily plucked by the cold wind from the drenched trees.
Some time earlier I was (already) feeling lethargic after a day’s adventures in the office and the laboratory. I was ready to sleep anytime, which had prompted me to leave my office for my apartment, only to be challenged by the unforeseen situation outside.
I had learned that one can determine the rain’s intensity by the way it hit the already wet ground. Sometimes, light drops will spear diagonally, seldom vertically, through the surface of the tiny masses of water collected on shallow and unassuming dents and invisible craters on the otherwise flat surfaces of the promenade and other walkways branching from it. Consequently, lazy ripples which grow in a slow geometric fashion, form, which means the rain is bearable. Massive drops will churn these tiny artificial bodies of water.
Under the canopy of the engineering building, I was standing, my hands cross-locked halfway my torso, my bare neck was becoming stiff, my jaw was shivering, and was brooding that my lungs and veins were to constrict. From there I could see the flaw of the tiled parking strip for bicycles. Two or three adjacent tiles near the midsection of the right wing of the strip were either badly cracked or missing. Troubled mass of rain water collected on such imperfection, which I only noticed this time. Had it not rained I would not be aware. The stream of lights leaking from the neighboring buildings illuminated the churning of the rainwater in the tiny chasms.
I headed back to my office. Unsure of what to do, I checked the weather forecast through Yahoo and found out that it would be raining for two more days.
I waited for at least an hour in my office - wrote this post the whole time - then walked off to brave the harsh weather.
{March 8, 2009}
Rain has always been associated with spring - that I know of - though I’m not really sure for it may be different in other places. The two-day rain was so strange that it gave me the feeling that it was winter again. The temperature fell to as low as eleven, which could be some degrees lower in the realm past my nakedness when the chilly wind advected past my body, unprepared for such nature’s wont to be rather quick of temper, a spur-of-the-moment indulging into annoying the nocturnal passersby, I included.
Nakedness. I was not naked. I just didn’t have the proper get-up on to shear the unbearably cold dampness under the sparse rain. On me was a white, long-sleeved, collarless cotton shirt, certainly not enough to defy the cold. I didn’t have umbrella and it was already some twenty or thirty minutes past midnight. I was naked as seen by the drifting leaves that had been desultorily plucked by the cold wind from the drenched trees.
Some time earlier I was (already) feeling lethargic after a day’s adventures in the office and the laboratory. I was ready to sleep anytime, which had prompted me to leave my office for my apartment, only to be challenged by the unforeseen situation outside.
I had learned that one can determine the rain’s intensity by the way it hit the already wet ground. Sometimes, light drops will spear diagonally, seldom vertically, through the surface of the tiny masses of water collected on shallow and unassuming dents and invisible craters on the otherwise flat surfaces of the promenade and other walkways branching from it. Consequently, lazy ripples which grow in a slow geometric fashion, form, which means the rain is bearable. Massive drops will churn these tiny artificial bodies of water.
Under the canopy of the engineering building, I was standing, my hands cross-locked halfway my torso, my bare neck was becoming stiff, my jaw was shivering, and was brooding that my lungs and veins were to constrict. From there I could see the flaw of the tiled parking strip for bicycles. Two or three adjacent tiles near the midsection of the right wing of the strip were either badly cracked or missing. Troubled mass of rain water collected on such imperfection, which I only noticed this time. Had it not rained I would not be aware. The stream of lights leaking from the neighboring buildings illuminated the churning of the rainwater in the tiny chasms.
I headed back to my office. Unsure of what to do, I checked the weather forecast through Yahoo and found out that it would be raining for two more days.
I waited for at least an hour in my office - wrote this post the whole time - then walked off to brave the harsh weather.
{March 8, 2009}
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