(no subject)
I still love the rain.
There's something both warming, comforting and uplifting about sitting here in candle light, with the rain hammering against the glass, and the sashed creaking with the wind.
I love the sounds that only an old building like this can make in a storm. I love how every now and again just a little breath of air forces its way in, bringing with it a taste and smell that's cold and damp, but also tinged with a herbal edge, as the plants on the windowsill seem to respond to it, especially the geraniums.
I love the layered sound of the rain on the glass, that sushurring rise and fall of accumulated sound that has no apparent pattern, but comes and goes at the whim of the wind. I find that knowing the sound comes from thousands upon thousands of little impacts, and knowing that each drop has been formed of water that has existed in dfferent states, and travelled an immesurable distance, just makes it all the more awesome.
I enjoy how quiet the city becomes when it's raining. Both in that people are driven inside and dissuaded from stopping on the street to chatter, and in that the immediacy of the sound of the rain, and that partial range of white noise it provides, mutes out so much of the background.
I've definitely come to associate rain with peace. Whether tucked up indoors, or out on the street, the world becomes quieter, less populated, less threatening. Out in the rain I don't have to worry about sunburn, or not being able to see where I'm going because it's too bright. Being out in it means taking it easy, being able to see what is around me, and eventually it also requires me to make a conscious effort to look after myself. Being indoors it encourages me to take a moment to pause; the sounds associated with the rain are engrossing enough that for a spell I don't need to keep my body and mind occupied.
And of course the right rain can be exiting too, as sometimes it brings with it the possibility of that most awesome of natural aural and visual spectacles; thunderstorms :) Not scheduled for tonight though, mores the pity.
Wow, as an aside, when the wind gusts between the buildings on either side of the Cowgate, it's like something massive is punching at the very building. The whole room feels as though it's suddenly flexed for a moment.
I do have to hope that Savage is undercover this evening, otherwise he is going to be very cold and wet at the end of his shift, and a vey grumpy teddybear.
There's something both warming, comforting and uplifting about sitting here in candle light, with the rain hammering against the glass, and the sashed creaking with the wind.
I love the sounds that only an old building like this can make in a storm. I love how every now and again just a little breath of air forces its way in, bringing with it a taste and smell that's cold and damp, but also tinged with a herbal edge, as the plants on the windowsill seem to respond to it, especially the geraniums.
I love the layered sound of the rain on the glass, that sushurring rise and fall of accumulated sound that has no apparent pattern, but comes and goes at the whim of the wind. I find that knowing the sound comes from thousands upon thousands of little impacts, and knowing that each drop has been formed of water that has existed in dfferent states, and travelled an immesurable distance, just makes it all the more awesome.
I enjoy how quiet the city becomes when it's raining. Both in that people are driven inside and dissuaded from stopping on the street to chatter, and in that the immediacy of the sound of the rain, and that partial range of white noise it provides, mutes out so much of the background.
I've definitely come to associate rain with peace. Whether tucked up indoors, or out on the street, the world becomes quieter, less populated, less threatening. Out in the rain I don't have to worry about sunburn, or not being able to see where I'm going because it's too bright. Being out in it means taking it easy, being able to see what is around me, and eventually it also requires me to make a conscious effort to look after myself. Being indoors it encourages me to take a moment to pause; the sounds associated with the rain are engrossing enough that for a spell I don't need to keep my body and mind occupied.
And of course the right rain can be exiting too, as sometimes it brings with it the possibility of that most awesome of natural aural and visual spectacles; thunderstorms :) Not scheduled for tonight though, mores the pity.
Wow, as an aside, when the wind gusts between the buildings on either side of the Cowgate, it's like something massive is punching at the very building. The whole room feels as though it's suddenly flexed for a moment.
I do have to hope that Savage is undercover this evening, otherwise he is going to be very cold and wet at the end of his shift, and a vey grumpy teddybear.