I live in the wet tropics, in far north Queensland, so it’s just as well
that I like rain. I love the sound of rain on the tin roof. Sometimes, when I
am sitting in my study, I can hear the rain approaching. At first a distant
sound that could be traffic on the road or wind in the trees. Then, the
unmistakable sound of rain on the sea of tin roofs that surround me, growing
louder. And finally the rain on my own roof: a rising crescendo as first the
edge of the shower passes by, and then the main body hits with full force.
Sometimes the rain reaches such torrential proportions that before long even
the deep gutters in the road cannot contain the flow. The water rises to the
edge of the small step at the front door. Fortunately it spills over at another
point before it can enter the house. Occasionally a small creek runs through
the patio area, when the swimming pool breaches its confines.
The roof gutters cannot deal with the heaviest of downpours. The rain
overflows, creating a curtain of water surrounding the house on several sides.
The patio is enclosed by a fine mesh insect screen, and on one side, the water
cascades down the mesh – we could not have designed such a feature.
Those of you used to a cold wet winter, knowing how unpleasant it is to
walk in the rain, will find it difficult to appreciate the joy of walking
through the rain on a day of 30°C+, wearing only a T-shirt and shorts. Then the
sun comes out and sucks the moisture back into the air.
The dry season in Cairns is beautiful: sunny, 25°C+, no rain in sight. But it is the Big Wet that I really love, watching and hearing nature toss itself into the fray with complete abandon.
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For the price of a Big Mac: Maybe they'll remember me
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