An Ant's Prophesy

Earlier today I announced with certainty that rain was definitely coming this afternoon. It wasn't a moment of clairvoyance, as we have received a refreshing storm every afternoon for the past few days, but more of a learned observation when I saw ants gathering outside the house. Throughout my life, I've learned a lot of wives' tales, superstitions, and weather predictions from my 'Jamaican Dads', Desmond and Francis -- one of my favorites being that when 'dem hants piles up, rain gonna fall.' Nina shot me a sideways glance when I stated this matter-of-factly as we exited the yard and headed down the street.

Nina awaiting the afternoon storm

There is something about rain that has always made me tingle. Whether it's a cold winter rain that gives us a good reason to nestle in with a blanket, a purring cat, and a good book, or the warm and unpredictable summer storms with ear piercing cracks of thunder and startling flashes of light, those that are romantic and dangerous, but you just can't help yourself from running outside to play like an overly excited child. I've never minded power outages as they have always appealed to my inner colonial pioneer (I won't get into my Laura Ingalls Wilder days or my stint as apothecary at the colonial craft fair, but I'm sure you catch my drift.) Storms create that feeling like the one you get when you're playing hide and seek, the lump in the pit of your stomach like you're not sure what's about to happen but you know it's going to be exciting.

So you can assume that several months of scorching heat and not a single drop of precipitation had me a little antsy in my pantsies. This past week has been exciting, reminding me of the aggressive and menacing daily afternoon storms that I would watch from my porch in Savannah, when the rains would fall so heavily that you could literally swim in the streets. There is something about a storm that makes me feel like I'm on vacation. Those moments are like snow days, sometimes unexpected, sometimes not, but either way you have to pause and just admire the beauty and power of nature for a minute. I always try to hold onto those moments, that feeling in me that the storm stirs up, the way the breeze feels on my skin as my hair whips around my face, the excitement that I just can't explain, the majestic nature that I don't quite understand -- and I don't try to, because if we attempted to understand and explain everything, all the magic would just fade away.

The rain began again. It fell heavily, easily, with no meaning or intention but the fulfilment of its own nature, which was to fall and fall.

-Helen Garner