It's Raining in Oberberg by Michael Arndt

The rain makes it all gummy and uninspiring if you're already rotten on the inside, dripping wet without an umbrella on the outside. When you're safe and dry in the comfort of your home, your mind crystal clear, it is the stimulant for some interesting reflections.

There's a lone pimple sitting on the area between the right cheek and right lateral side of my nose. Would it add to your day if I pinpoint the exact location of the bump and describe its color in detail? No, I don't think so.


The rain-induced ramble begins here:

We sit looking at the trees dancing to the beat of the tropical rain anticipating a snapping of a broken branch or a lethal flying glass but nothing happened except for more bending and twirling of the greenery.

The wind is fierce but the long limbs of leafy appendages break its speed and for that we are deeply grateful. The porch shade is spared this time.

There's a giant silence hovering right over us after the heavy downpour and violent winds. The clouds have purged all the toxic and crap from days before, scrubbing the streets from soot and excrement of various animals and sweeping the dried brown leaves haphazardly according to the wind's pleasure.

The sudden flickering of light that catches our sight temporarily halts our breathing. We wait for the loud boom of angry thunder. When it stays quiet our ears and hearts count their blessing. It's not nice to be startled by nature.

Rain causes us to pause and listen to something other than our daily concerns. The sound of a consistent pour buffers us from our own incessant dwellings. There's a thin space in between the noise of rainwater hitting the roof and that of within our heads which calls to us.

If you can get yourself lodged in between the two contrasting buzz, you can zoom in and out of time. When you finally return, you may feel strange but the mind is quite a fancy playground.

A prolonged session of downpour can aggravate the nostalgic and the depressed. Even the chirpiest of us get restless. After a while, you may be lulled to slumber. For a writer, I believe it's one of the most conducive weathers to purge thoughts that have long been waiting to be poured out.

... So, pour 'em out like the tropical monsoon!

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