quiet, rain, september


It’s wonderful, one of the best of sounds. Soft, the sound of gentle movement up, up around the treetops. But there’s a rhythm to it. Not pitter patter. Maybe pat, pit, pat, but way more subtle and random, more a blur of notes, than a pat, pit, pat.

I guess by this time of year the weathered leaves at the top of the canopy are dry and leathery. And strong. Strong enough to hold onto raindrops for a minute or two and let you listen. You can barely hear the pattering high above, but the air down below, where you’re surrounded by trees, is quiet. Insulated quiet. Like the quiet you’d get standing in a room with drapes and thick carpet.

Eventually the subconscious taps you on the shoulder to say, what is that? Wind? Rain? Yes, rain. And then if you like, you can stand still, or you can saunter along on your way, and listen. For as long as it lasts, you can listen. As long as the leaves up there protect you, you can listen.

I feel I should pause here, because there is a delay in the way this all happens. Besides, the moment deserves a pause. It seems inappropriate to rush it.

Then. Then the rain picks up and leaves give way to the weight of the moisture. Soft pit-pats become a drenching swish, a swish that makes it down past the leaves to the air that surrounds you. Down to the shrubs and small plants that grow near the path. Down to the dirt. It’s a different kind of rain sound. The kind they overdo in movies. Why can’t they get that right?

Then, I guess it’s time to move on. Make a dash for it, find a dry spot.


4 thoughts on “listen”

  1. Exactly how the rain sounds when it first starts, when you wonder if it’s wind or rain but then you feel the drops and the wet and you know. Your description is just lovely. Took me right out there to when the rain begins.

    Liked by 1 person

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s