Proximity

Some of you may remember that, many moons ago, I wrote briefly about being a pluviophile (having just discovered the word). A pluviophile is defined as 'A lover of rain; someone who finds joy and peace of mind during rainy days'.

After a long weekend of glorious sunshine we're back to rain and gusty winds and lowered temperatures. But that doesn't bother me. At the risk of sounding a bit Pollyanna, rain at this time of year is something I savour. Practically speaking it's not great (what with having an energetic, outdoors-loving toddler who seems to attract mud even where you thought there was none) but there's something about long grass and lush hedgerows, heavy with rain, that I find deeply satisfying.

I remember once seeing a cream-coloured vintage wedding car outside a country church. It was summertime and the world was green, and the rain was falling. The leaves were hanging, sodden, from the trees. It was one of those moments where you feel inspired to write a novel (I didn't get that far).  

Even more pleasurable than rain during the warmer months is that sensation you get when you're close to the weather but just out of it's reach: taking shelter from a storm under a bridge or lying on the bed with the window open, listening to the raindrops drumming against the glass.

I always dream of having a porch attached to my one-day house. And the appeal of that lies not in the thought of summer evenings dreamily basking in the warmth (lovely as that would be). For me, I'd love to sit and watch the rain dripping from the edge of the roof and smell the wet earth, close enough to enjoy it but still - just - under cover and dry.

Few things are better than hanging out the washing on a warm, breezy day but if you manage to get that washing indoors just as the clouds gather and big fat drops start to fall - well, it's one of those simple pleasures I love.

So right now I'm indoors gazing out at leaden skies and not minding one little bit. The plants are getting a drink and the world, once we venture back out, will feel fresh once more. We may have to wear wellies for a day or two but I for one am a welly enthusiast.

(Note: I reserve the right to retract any comments made here should we have a washout summer.)