Finally the Rains have come....

After weeks of stiflingly hot weather, the rains broke through the thick humid air last night and there was an almighty downpour. Thunder and lightning crashed through my sweaty half-sleep and our bedroom curtains were billowed out into the room like something out of a horror movie with the wind of the storm.
'Thank god!' I thought. I don't do well in humid hot weather. I get sinus headaches, I sweat, I feel sluggish. I like a moderate temperature. Nothing too cold and nothing too hot. Great Britain has always been a damp country. Mould is prolific everywhere and damp sticky transport is the same in winter as it is in summer. I can't count the amount of double-decker red buses with steamed up windows I have been in over the years. But the heat this summer has been out of the ordinary and our tiny flat, which is freezing in winter has, sure enough, revealed itself to be boiling in summer. We lie naked at night, all erotic impulses squashed by the humidity and heat, a bedroom that could double up as a sauna, fanning ourselves with gorgeous but useless ornamental Japanese fans.

And then it rains! It rains at work, at home, during the night and during the day. At night, I leap out of bed, excited by the thunder and lightening and the sound of hail on our skylight and run into the living room to gaze out of the window, totally unashamed of my nakedness like a toddler. During the day, I leave my work computer and sit by the open window of the office. I open the old white sash window frame as wide as possible and sit with my arms peaking out listening to the heavy droplets of tropical-like rain, smelling the fresh green scent of thirsty plants and wet earth and gazing at the downpour soaking Regent's Park across the road. The air is so much cooler after the rain. The pressure drops. I can breathe again. Black Taxis swish by in a rush of water and people in the street below scurry by with their jackets over their heads. But frankly I just want to go out and dance around in it!