Which Season of the Year is it Where you are and What Memories Does it Bring?
It's raining where I am. Fat raindrops hitting the roof. I've always had this habit of not knowing when the rain starts. I might be busy with one thing or the other, or not and all of a sudden, I'll get this sense of something happening. Usually, I'll go open the door or window and come face to face with the rain.
But that wasn't the case tonight. I heard the thunder rumble and waited patiently for the rain to begin. I welcomed it because it's been so hot lately.
And it brings me to the reason I'm writing this post, which of course was inspired by the rain. What season of the year is it where you are and what does it mean to you? It's the rainy season here. Some part of the world call it spring, and for me, it makes new memories each year while refreshing the old ones. I'll share a few with you.
Fruits.
Especially mangoes. This is the time we get lots of it in my part of the world. Being a child who grew up in a farm, I had my own share of fun. I remember the days I forget to eat because I've had quite a lot. There were also days I sneaked out under the rain to pick them. I wasn't really concerned about the mangoes, I just enjoyed playing in the rain. Rain always brings with it this scent of the earth that no matter where I am, I remember everything vividly.
Death.
All the favourite people in my life died during the rainy season. Makes you wonder what's going on. My grandmother, uncle, dad, Mama. The rain makes me remember, especially my Mama who was the most recent. She always had something to say to me whenever I complained about the endless rain.
Love.
Now, before you get all romantic, you might want to to know that this one isn't a happy story. Once upon a time, I was young and stupid. So I went to visit a boy who wasn't talking to me. This was done under the rain. He lay, facing the wall when I got there and I had to go back. Yes, you guessed right, under the rain. I mean, I couldn't possibly be talking to myself. Well, I broke up with him via text. Petty, I know. Sorry, I warned you.
Quietude.
Anyone who knows the first thing about me knows I love my peace. And you have to agree with me that rain brings that. Watching them soak the soil is therapeutic. Plus the calmness that comes after it. I love the cold too, so it's a perfect combination. Everything is so fresh and calm after it rained. You just have to love it.
What about you? How do the seasons of the year affect you?
I started this as a freewrite but look what it turned into. Tell me what you're thinking.