Rain

And then the rain came...

Phil came around to pick up the dog around 6 - we'd been watching some crappy TV together. Phil was exhausted from driving all day - I was half way through a slab, so I didn't think it odd. After a some chit-chat about his trip to Darwin he took the dog off into the distance. I went back to the telly and wondered if I could really be fucked making myself any dinner. I ate a couple of slices of ham out of an open packet in the fridge and slumped on the couch. Hang on… I never bought any ham…

I'd seen that episode of America Dad before, and I couldn't quite pay attention to it. There was something in the air. Much unlike the tension of a Grog Night, a new state of anxiousness hung heavy on the breeze. It smelled like rain - a luscious wet, the air came into town on with gathering intensity. Gusty and growling through the trees.

I wandered out on to the verandah to look around. Through the blackness out the back I could see every beam from each street light; stark in the dust kicked up by the storm. Phil said it had been raining in Darwin, but word was Maningrida copped the storms weeks later.

I went back inside - 'heavy storms' had cut the satellite TV. The roof began to hiss, and a cracking sound ran through the house that made all the electrical appliances beep. The rain had started. Big and thick and warm and wet.

I stood in the downpour – it seemed like the sort of thing I’d do if my life was a movie; enjoy the first rains of The Wet. I felt like a farmer from the far flung outback – by that I mean I felt like I had cirrhosis of the liver, was bankrupt and borderline suicidal. Not true, but funny. I felt great. The air was cool, and water flowed like a curtain off the corrugated roof. Dogs barked and joyful squeals came from the street. The whole town was waking up – refreshed. I went to bed with a smile on my face – it was wrinkled and bent out of shape by the time I woke up.

The morning sun sparkled through my window the way it always had. By the time I headed out the door it had got hot. HOT. The night’s rainfall was evaporating out of the dirt and hanging in the air. Humidity was at around 95% - sticky and thick. It’s like every breath you take has already been breathed by someone else. The air is so wet your lungs seize a little every time you draw breath, for fear that they’re about to drown. Overnight the climate had changed completely. Welcome to the new world. It’s only wetter and hotter from here on in…