It was like
an unexpected birthday present.
There had
been no flash flood warnings from the Ministry, no text messages from the
company to be vigilant, no dark clouds in the sky as we retired for the night.
On waking up
in the middle of the night, I thought there was a sandstorm roaring outside.
There was a dull drumming on the rooftop. I pushed the curtains aside to find
the city enveloped in wetness. Blackberry, the wild cat who has adopted us, had
curled itself into a tight ball and lay on the step just outside our bedroom
window.
In the
desert, we celebrate rains.
We stepped
out of the house onto the soaking wet doormat. The scent of the earth greeted
us and filled us with an exhilaration that is impossible to describe in words.
The trees in the garden shared our feelings. There were little streams of water
running down the slope towards the neighbouring houses.
The night
was dark with the moon smiling in a crescent amid the rain clouds.
The next
morning, people drove around with open windows - with the wind in their hair and
a song in their hearts.
