Rain

I love the rain, the sound of it falling through the leaves, on the rooftops, into puddles. I love rain on a tin roof, loud and obnoxious and musical all at once. I love the way rain splatters. I love the way it cleanses; washes away.

When I can I walk in the rain. When I need to I run in the rain. When no one is looking I dance in it, and let the rain drops carry me away.

I hope it rains one day while I'm home. I want to watch it fall on the banana leaves again, and see the red dirt I was born on swell up into muddy rivets running along the street and turning my backyard into a rich mud-bath. I want to gaze at the sea before me once more when the waves are grey with tiny white caps, and the sky is but a shade lighter, and a seagull with its feathers earily glowing white swoops down over the scene. Somehow that has always been my definition for peace, even though it was in the middle of a rainstorm.

A poem I wrote several months back keeps flitting across my mind today. That happens sometimes. But I can't find it; I think I put it on a different computer or drive than I have here just now. It's the rythmm of it that has me, I think.

It has me thinking and remembering and wondering again, which I have not because it has been too tiring for some time now.

I dream every night now of being back there, of being home. And I wake crying almost every time. In seven days I'll be back there at last, and I won't have to dream again. So it makes me wonder... what will waking up be like?

Rain wash us bright again.

Excited...

I just want to take a few minutes to say I'm so excited to be going home in 8 days!!! First time back to the Caribbean in 12 years... :)

Windows

I have decided that windows make every bit of difference.
My office has been moved from a little room in the middle of a basement to a room at the edge of a basement... with two windows. And having the sun pour onto me and being able to watch a beautiful sunset out my window at the end of the day is just lovely.

It makes me really excited about my travels coming up: I decided instead of sticking around and not travelling, I would go somewhere... And after great debate as to the where (the debate being...visit dear Riv in Scotland, Go-Eders in Uganda, or Bee in the Middle East), I decided that what I actually needed was to go home. To my birthplace.

So in 29 days I will be back in the Caribbean, watching the sun set to a green flash on one side of the island, and the moon rise over the rough waves on the other side. And I can't wait. Still, every time now that things get overwhelming, or I am just so exhausted, or frustrated, or down, I take out the thought of where I will soon be, hold it out at arms length, dust it off, turn it around a bit in admiration, and then set it back in anticipation.

In 29 days, I'll be swimming in 80 degree, crystal clear water and walking with flamingos and eating pastechi.

It's a window into the future, and a window into a past that was locked up.
I think that's something to be excited about.