Thunder, Lightning, and Rain! Oh My!
in the Philippines, July - October is most commonly known as the rainy season -- bagyo.
every couple of weeks, a fantastic typhoon would sweep through the country and its 7000 tiny little islands, causing floods, mayhem, and a loss of electricity (known as "brown-outs") that lasted anywhere from 3-5 days (per typhoon, of course).
due to the floods, schools would shut down. because these storms are a most common occurence, special "storm days" are already allotted in the planning of the academic calendar.
thus, on these fateful days, my mother and i would drag chairs out to the porch or balcony of our house and watch the wind blow the trees and the rain fill the streets. we would sit there for hours, staring at the rain.
those days were some of the most peaceful i've ever experienced.
chaos. there is nothing like being able to watch your neighborhood battle its millionth bagyo and know that you are in the comfort of your own home, sitting next to your mother, drinking hot chocolate and listening to the wind howl.
the raincoats and lightweight jackets would finally see the light of day as they are pulled from their dusty corners and closets.
for 4 months out of the entire year, the tiled floors of my house would be icy cold and at night i would cocoon myself in bed under a fort of pillows and blankets. on the nights when the rain was especially loud, banging angrily against the terra-cotta tile of my home's roof, and the electricity was gone, my sister and i would crawl into our mothers bed, curled together like three little pigs. reading by candle-light became a tradition.
right now, almost a decade later, i am sitting in my little room in Wales. lightning illuminates my room every few minutes, and like a true follower, thunder follows every 15 seconds.
a familiar lullabye heard for the first time in years.
every couple of weeks, a fantastic typhoon would sweep through the country and its 7000 tiny little islands, causing floods, mayhem, and a loss of electricity (known as "brown-outs") that lasted anywhere from 3-5 days (per typhoon, of course).
due to the floods, schools would shut down. because these storms are a most common occurence, special "storm days" are already allotted in the planning of the academic calendar.
thus, on these fateful days, my mother and i would drag chairs out to the porch or balcony of our house and watch the wind blow the trees and the rain fill the streets. we would sit there for hours, staring at the rain.
those days were some of the most peaceful i've ever experienced.
chaos. there is nothing like being able to watch your neighborhood battle its millionth bagyo and know that you are in the comfort of your own home, sitting next to your mother, drinking hot chocolate and listening to the wind howl.
the raincoats and lightweight jackets would finally see the light of day as they are pulled from their dusty corners and closets.
for 4 months out of the entire year, the tiled floors of my house would be icy cold and at night i would cocoon myself in bed under a fort of pillows and blankets. on the nights when the rain was especially loud, banging angrily against the terra-cotta tile of my home's roof, and the electricity was gone, my sister and i would crawl into our mothers bed, curled together like three little pigs. reading by candle-light became a tradition.
right now, almost a decade later, i am sitting in my little room in Wales. lightning illuminates my room every few minutes, and like a true follower, thunder follows every 15 seconds.
a familiar lullabye heard for the first time in years.