The forecast rain finally arrived sometime during the night and I woke to the sound of water streaming down instead of chickens clucking as I usually do. I lay there for a while thinking again how lucky we had been yesterday. When I went downstairs, the Sage reminded me that today was the Street Fair in Yagnub, so I stopped gloating and felt sorry for the people who had antique stalls there instead. It cleared up for a while in fact, but then absolutely tipped down.
How many words are the Inuits supposed to have for snow? They’re surely eclipsed by the ways we describe our rain. From spitting, spotting, drizzle, mizzle, shower, fine rain, steady rain, downpour or cloudburst to more colourful expressions such as tipping it down, pissing down, raining cats and dogs, teeming with rain, pouring with rain, coming down in bucketfuls, and descriptions of the weather conditions such as thunderstorm, sleet, squally shower, blustery shower and monsoon (we do like to exaggerate) or the effects, such as a flood or deluge, we’ve got a description for all our weather and we know just what we mean. You’d not call that gentle, fine penetrating rain a downpour, however steady it is and however wet it makes you, but ‘nice weather for ducks’ can describe almost any sort of rain.
When the sun shines for more than a day or two, it’s turned out nice again. We don’t have much to say about the sun. It might be pleasant, but after a couple of days it’s a scorcher and soon after that we’ve had enough. The garden, or the farmer, needs the rain we say and most of us can’t wait to have something to complain about again.
When we lived in Lowestoft, the private roadway leading to our house, the Rectory and the church had a drain just by our gate which tended to block after heavy rain, leaving a large puddle. Once I looked out to see Weeza and Al, who had gone out in raincoats and wellies, wading into the puddle up to their knees. They had taken off their wellies and, roaring with laughter, they were filling them with water and emptying them out again. I didn’t stop them. For one thing, there wasn’t much point. They were as wet as they could possibly be and it was far too late to do anything about that. And they were having such fun that I couldn’t bear to be a spoilsport.