The sky goes grey, the light goes dim and the rain smacks to the ground and bounces of the window ledge, through the open window and into my room. The ground outside the window has turned into a wide brown puddle of mud and battered down vegetation. Only the frogs enjoy the weather, spending the evenings croaking to each other. The insects have been smacked to the ground and the bats fly pointlessly around searching for food.
Even the never ending stream of motorbikes slows a little as the drivers stop to put on their rain covers. Tropical storms are supposed to come in the late afternoon to relieve the heat of the day. These come whenever they like. I can watch the clouds rotate around the city until they head in my direction and drench my suburb. But somehow the ground soaks it all up and drains it all away. If the sun can creep through the roads and paths dry off and the children come out to the play park outside my building again for their evening’s playtime.
I’ve got some protection against the weather. I have a collapsible umbrella suitable for a London commuter and so almost useless here and a large plastic cape that the university gave me.
This particular storm, the second of the day, came and went quickly so now the clouds are thinning a little and the remains of the day’s light has returned just in time for dusk and what might turn out to be a spectacular sunset.
And its going to do this until November.
