It started raining rather hard this morning. “Damn the rain!” was my first thought. I had wanted to go out exploring. I could see the water droplets slanting past my slightly tinted window. Then I decided to head to the roof of my guesthouse. The roof is interesting in that it’s technically the roof; you can’t go any higher and it’s open on all sides, but there is still another little roof for shelter from the sun and rain. So I went there to experience some rain without getting wet.
As I climbed the stairs up there, I noticed that the rain was slating so much that a little bit was making its way into the stairwell. On the roof, half of the floor was covered in water due to the brisk wind that was accompanying the rain. I went to the dryer side and just watched. I felt a chill, literally. Not a chill of the beauty of the tile roof and pastel-colored buildings spread around me, but a little shiver ran through me because of the way that the wind and rain were changing the atmosphere.
I watched the rain fall onto the sprawling, derelict construction project right across the alley from my window. The place is now used for parking a few cars and motorbikes, and weeds and plants grow all over and exposed iron rusts in the elements. Some of the six floors immediately opposite to me have leaks down onto the floor below. This is an interesting deception for me sometimes, because I hear the leaks and water splashing and I think it’s raining, but the rain has long since stopped.
But last night, I finally got what I’d been trying to avoid since the rains began: an unwanted shower. I went to buy some groceries and there was just a sprinkling of rain. I met the landlady of my place on the way out. “Take my umbrella,” she said. “Oh, no problem. I don’t need it,” I said. As soon I got out of my alley, the rain seemed to fall harder. I tried to stick close to buildings, but there is always a chance of a gutter getting me nice and soaked. In any case, the rain wasn’t too bad on the few blocks there, but when I stepped out of the store it was really coming down. I stood there under the eaves and watched the lights change and traffic move. It seemed to be subsiding a little, but by no means stopping completely. I decided that the next time the lights changed that I would go. I did, and the rain wasn’t heavy and it wasn’t light either, so I was nice and dripping when I got back. My landlady was downstairs. “You should have taken the umbrella,” she said.