Rain on a Tin Roof
The rain used to be quite calming before the beginning of the rainy season. It would be something that I enjoyed sleeping in, especially with the tin roofs here in Guatemala. Yet, now the overly loud slapping of rain against the slim pieces of tin that make up the roof is far less romantic than before. Storms were always part of what I loved about the world. Back home storms came far more subtly, gently rolling through in the distance and giving fair warning to all who lived nearby. It was a necessary warning due to the extremity of the storms and how dangerous they often turn out to be. The long flat plains of the Midwest allow seeing for miles across the cornfields, but here there is no such warning. The volcanoes and mountains hinder sight in all directions until you see the first dark cloud slip past its edges and that is when it is far too late to do anything about it. If you are out and unprepared you are certainly going to end up at your destination soaked to the bone and freezing, because along with the rain comes the cold, which is a nice break from the sweat commanding temperatures of the sun. Inevitably, where ever your destination may be in this country you are certainly never going to avoid the sound of rain on a tin roof. It is strange how quickly something as pure and changing as rain can drown out all other noise in your life. No matter how loud you turn up the action in your life, the pitter patter of rain drops always seem to get just a little bit louder themselves. Even when you are sleeping soundly dreaming of the things that you left behind, once the rain starts you are sure to be disturbed from your slumber. To the best of my knowledge thunder and lightning come together as one package, but here in the land of eternal spring they seem to defy those laws. It will be a clear sky with flashes of lightning all around and not an inkling of thunder to be heard, or thunder will boom from the heavens and the accompanying lightning will not shine through the night. Those storms in the Midwest, the ones we all hear about, can tear trees from their homes on the land and crack houses in two with their lightning; those were the storms that I would love to watch. I would sit out on the back porch with the lights out and let the storm show me the power that it holds, it was one of my favorite past times. Yet, as of the last couple summers the storms seemed to have settled down a bit and the ones that I would get excited for would flounder and dissipate in front of my eyes. Now, that I am constantly surrounded by storms they do not attract my attention as much as before. Maybe it is the consistency of them, or the lackluster results from the storm that has my attention drawn elsewhere, or the fact that I am constantly wet in one way or another. The rain is oppressive and hinders all thoughts of plans; it takes a lot of strength to go out in pouring rain every day for work or just to get food. When the rain comes it is my barrier to the world, making the comfort of home seem more appealing than the moment before. For now, I will simply have to enjoy the sound of rain on a tin roof, waiting for the day when Guatemala allows me to see the storm heading down the open plains and it brings excitement back to this dreary weather.