It’s Raining

Jane Goodhew

To say it is raining would be an understatement, more to the point when did it last stop.  As if in answer the clouds moved over and a glimpse of blue appeared, followed by that elusive yellow orb, the sun.   I could feel my lips turn upwards into a smile of appreciation for I so detested the milk a magnesia sky that had hung around for months and made the short days of winter seem even longer.

The English seem to relish discussing the weather probably because it is so variable unlike many countries where it is either baking in the sun or drowning in a monsoon.  Although for some time now the UK has had more than its far share of rain.  Floods due to rivers bursting their banks or high tides and the sea walls collapsing. Often as not because builders have paid no heed to flood plains and happily built on them.  Homes that have stood for decades are now being flooded as the water pours down the hill with nowhere to go until whoosh it enters your front door.  No one appears to take the blame or listen to warnings that they are heading for disaster.

What always springs to my mind are words of songs such as ‘it may as well rain until September’.  ‘It’s raining in my heart, ‘‘singing in the rain’ ‘rain drops keep falling on my head’ ‘Purple Rain’   The list is endless which is appropriate as so is the rain as yet more drops fall from the sky as if the world is crying at the complete and utter mess man has made of it.

Bombs are falling from the sky and raining down on the innocent who have done nothing but to be born in an area that seems to attract trouble due to man and his greed to control the people and the land.   The powerful nations fight to dominate and show their strength or is it their weakness at not being able to negotiate in a civilised manner?   Nature is now flooding areas with continual rain, forest fires from abnormally high temperatures, melting the icebergs with global warming, trees are still being cut down to make room for yet more concrete buildings or roads despite the warnings.  Man seems to have become deaf, dumb and blind.

I am trying to find something to be cheerful for and sadly it is that I am not a child born into this era when destruction man made or natural seems to be winning as yet another murder or bombing is on the news.  I turn the music up to drown out the negative thoughts and look at the bright yellow daffodils that are swaying gently in the breeze and the purple/blue hyacinth that nestles amongst the green.  Spring is showing itself as the trees display their pink or white blossoms like a ballerina from Swan Lake in her tutu.  Let us hope that nature wins and man learns to ow his head in shame for the suffering he has caused before it is too late for us all to sing and dance in the rain or sun and feel love and happiness again and watch the butterfly gracefully move from flower to flower in the warm sun of summer.

 

Copyright Jane Goodhew