Rain.
Melodic Rain.
Rain in Tasmania is not equable. I had never experienced such behavior by rain before moving here. I know rain, I lived in Seattle. There is a steadiness to that rain, a relentlessness, the kind of rain you can really depend on. Here, I have experienced being completely soaked in two blocks of walking, while I could clearly see blue skies ahead of me. The rain here tends to come with gusts of wind and flash flooding.
So as I sit at the back side of the house the rain is barely perceptible. However, on the other side of the house where my bedroom is, the rain is beating against the windows causing them to shake and the curtains to sway.
I know there that there is a high chance that this weather will roll on by, perhaps going to the mainland or perhaps trying its luck at the South Pole.
Of course until then I will have to miss my walk. I will worry that I have put off going to the store for so many days that I have nothing left but dry foods in the cupboard.
I will chastise myself for not bringing in more wood. The supply on the porch is now drenched, and inside I have enough for dusk to dawn. Not a supply that would stretch from afternoon and on through the true darkness.
I knew rain was expected. But my trust in Tasmania has waned.
Yesterday, I should have gone to the store, and I should have stacked more wood, but instead I changed my mind and walked along the beach, and to look for penguins.
There is a small wild area at the end of the paved Blackmans Bay walk.
This untouched piece of Suburban paradise is as far as I can riddle out, owned by 'The Presentation Sisters', although I have never seen a single penguin tending to the area. I believe the property to be set aside for 'Catholic reflection' but I have also not seen anyone musing over the large questions of God in the area.
But if God is in the wilds, or the trees, then this small patch will save us because none of neighbors seemed to place importance on maintaining the Eucalyptus giants.
Melodic Rain.
Rain in Tasmania is not equable. I had never experienced such behavior by rain before moving here. I know rain, I lived in Seattle. There is a steadiness to that rain, a relentlessness, the kind of rain you can really depend on. Here, I have experienced being completely soaked in two blocks of walking, while I could clearly see blue skies ahead of me. The rain here tends to come with gusts of wind and flash flooding.
So as I sit at the back side of the house the rain is barely perceptible. However, on the other side of the house where my bedroom is, the rain is beating against the windows causing them to shake and the curtains to sway.
I know there that there is a high chance that this weather will roll on by, perhaps going to the mainland or perhaps trying its luck at the South Pole.
Of course until then I will have to miss my walk. I will worry that I have put off going to the store for so many days that I have nothing left but dry foods in the cupboard.
I will chastise myself for not bringing in more wood. The supply on the porch is now drenched, and inside I have enough for dusk to dawn. Not a supply that would stretch from afternoon and on through the true darkness.
I knew rain was expected. But my trust in Tasmania has waned.
Yesterday, I should have gone to the store, and I should have stacked more wood, but instead I changed my mind and walked along the beach, and to look for penguins.
There is a small wild area at the end of the paved Blackmans Bay walk.
This untouched piece of Suburban paradise is as far as I can riddle out, owned by 'The Presentation Sisters', although I have never seen a single penguin tending to the area. I believe the property to be set aside for 'Catholic reflection' but I have also not seen anyone musing over the large questions of God in the area.
But if God is in the wilds, or the trees, then this small patch will save us because none of neighbors seemed to place importance on maintaining the Eucalyptus giants.
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