Sometimes though I have no clue where the theme for discussion will lead, I just know that it will be wonderful. This month the group’s suggestion of Rainy Days was one of those occasions.
We found that rain has so many associations that the conversation became an ever-deepening reservoir of ideas as they poured down from every direction. (Sorry, couldn’t help it).
We talked about our personal and cultural relationship to rain, how it is a carrier of meaning and history, the literary and musical symbolism of it and we even created a playlist for you to share some of that richness of meaning https://open.spotify.com/playlist/2IwWWI6NjxMV08zZBCN5QM?si=e1f11f61748c4115
Read on to see some of the variety of thoughts that emerged….
Jean Thompson
Rain: Friend or Foe?
A friend when it waters crops and gardens and replenishes the reservoirs that supply us with the water we need for everyday life. A friend when it freshens us up as well as the environment.
If we don’t have enough of it, then we have droughts. Crops wither, gardens shrivel and we have to ration the water we use. How must it be for countries that haven’t had rain for years, not just a few weeks? We watch the programmes, we know how much rain is needed to be a friend to that land. A rainy day is prayed for, and welcomed with celebrations when it comes.
But what about when it is a foe? When we have too much of it. When floods wash away lands, houses, livelihoods and lives. When time after time, people are washed out of their homes but can’t move away so have to live with the permanent feeling of dread. Not just clean rain water but all the sludge and debris it brings with it. How would we regard a rainy day then? Not with joy, that’s for sure.
How do we enjoy a rainy day then on a more personal level? The smell of a shower of rain after a prolonged hot spell. The freshness, the cleanness of the air and the ground after it. The perkiness of flowers after a well-deserved and long awaited drink.
The sight of children who universally love to splash in rain puddles. Either with wellies or without them. Who has taught children the delight of doing that? How have children through generations compared notes that this is a wonderful thing to do?
And what about all the songs that over many years make reference to rain? All the paintings, all the poems. Joyful or melancholic, there’s no getting away from the importance of rain, this natural occurrence.
Mark Taylor
Sometimes the rain falls so heavily it feels almost magical, the way it would if you had never seen rain before. As a boy I would sit in the armchair by the living room windows and wonder if there would be a flood. Floods then meant not mess and destruction and danger, but adventure and excitement, the world transformed, and of course, school cancelled. I never stopped to wonder how the water would make it out of the nearby quarry pits or above the embankments of the M62 to our street—or what it would mean for our house, set below the road at the end of a sloping front garden, if it did. I just saw the rain, and thought it was magical.
I still get that feeling sometimes. I carefully examined the flood maps before we bought our house and the damp patch that appeared after the first heavy rain, so I can enjoy the magic and feel secure, for as long as I don’t think too hard about those with homes on flood plains, or with no homes at all. For as long as I don’t think too hard about why the rain seems to fall more heavily more often these days. I fear a day will come when we are all soaked to the bone. It is a small comfort to remember that, once you are soaked through, you can finally stop hiding from the rain, lift your head, and stride through it.
Margaret Williams
November rain High fell tops invisible merging with the leaden sky paths awash, usurped by infant streams of this wet autumn’s heavy rains the ghyll's swollen waters dashing, swirling, foaming; their hypnotic roar enveloping, isolating us from all other sound The tarn serene, ghostly, a brimming bowl accepting without protest the endless rain dying bracken, leaves deepest russet, purple, limp and sad; defiant amber stalks with unexpected strength trapping our unwary feet a single fallen rowan berry vibrant, crimson, lying on the dun-brown path gentle faced sheep, curious white heads turning as we pass in the softening light fairy tale cottages hugging the fellside their lighted windows sending warmth along the darkening dale tiny bats speeding crazily, skilfully, over our heads, in the growing dusk
Margaret Kendall
Rainy days on holiday
I’m not someone who likes to bask in the sunshine on a beach, but doesn’t everywhere look better when the sun is out and the sky is blue! Wearing the right gear, rain doesn’t stop me from enjoying a walk in the countryside, although I do find it harder to set off in the rain than cope with a shower whilst I’m already out.
Sometimes, rethinking plans because of rain can bring unexpected benefits. On a Spring holiday in Cornwall, we moved from our cliff top camp site to a more sheltered site nearer to the Eden Project after a forecast of strong winds and very heavy rain. Our visit to the Eden Project had been long-anticipated and we’d arranged to meet a friend there. Despite the rain, we had a lovely time chatting, wandering round the gardens under the domes and relaxing in the café. The tulip display was particularly beautiful.
The next day, we decided to take advantage of the rather expensive “valid for a year” ticket and spend another day there. On the first day, we’d had an impressionistic view of the gardens, but on the second day we also really enjoyed taking our time, finding out more about the different plants growing in the temperate, tropical and sub-tropical zones, and reading the featured quotations and poetry. It was such a memorable experience, I’m glad it rained that day.
Pauline Omoboye
Rain It often comes with showers Or downpours soaking wet It comes sometimes from out of nowhere Umbrellas we have to get. Manchester is quite used to it We are often prepared for rain Childhood rain brought adventures Each adventure not quite the same. I remember collecting lots of wood Anything we could find To make our dens waterproof Leaving nothing of use behind. We would sneak things from our houses To make our dens the best I remember horse haired blankets Table cloths and the rest. Scavenging lots of treasures to make our dens keep out the rain Built on the crofts, in derelict houses, No new den was quite the same. Danger we didn’t often see While walking on the rafters All we wanted was a home. Contained with lots of laughter. I would often see grandma's tablecloths remnants from curtains mum had made Our dens full of treasures we collected all quite gently laid. So bring the rain let it fall, let it splatter It brings fond memories to mind For me the rain is therapeutic Drip, drip, drop, leaving wetness behind. (C)P.Omoboye
Annette Bennett
The lion, the witch and the wardrobe
The day the Pevensey children started their Narnia adventure, it was raining outside.
They said “it’s raining – we can’t go outside and play.
Let’s play hide and seek inside instead”
They found the wardrobe, or more precisely, Lucy did
And so, it all began.
If it hadn’t been raining outside
Maybe we wouldn’t have had that story from C.S. Lewis.
Tony Goulding
“------ ice cream castles in the air And feather canyons everywhere I’ve looked at clouds that way But now they only block the sun They rain and snow on everyone So many things I would’ve done But clouds got in my way” Joni Mitchell, Both Sides Now
This month we had a couple of interesting and thought-provoking get togethers discussing “Rainy Days”. The lyrics from “Both Sides Now” by the Canadian singer/songwriter Joni Mitchell best reflect my ambivalent thoughts about wet weather.
There is a world of difference between short sharp showery spells in spring or the storm following a sultry day in July or August and periods of prolonged rainfall during the cold winter months.
The first of these can be easily tolerated as being good and appreciated as rain is needed to grow both food from the country’s farms and plants and flowers in our own gardens. Sometimes the rainfall may even be positively welcomed as being refreshing and “clearing the air”.
I vividly recall one instance in which rain falling was loudly cheered. I was in the centre of Cardiff in August 1976 when the heavens opened and brought an end to the drought conditions. Shoppers were so relieved that instead of sheltering in shop doorways many danced in the street!
Winter rain is never welcome unless in a negative way that at least it isn’t snowing. I think the worst facet of rainy days in this season is that cloud cover further restricts daylight already depleted by the short days during December. It is depressing to look out of the window day after day only to see grey skies and wet pavements and that is without suffering from S.A.D (Seasonal Affective Disorder).
Finally, I couldn’t possibly let this topic pass by without reference to that body of people who almost invariably never welcome the rain’s arrival: these are cricket lovers. They are forever plagued by those three cursed words “Rain Stopped Play” or worse the hated mantra “Match abandoned without a ball being bowled”.
I once travelled with a friend all the way to Colwyn Bay only for the fixture to have this fate as did the 1938 Ashes test at Old Trafford referenced in the Hitchcock version of “The Lady Vanishes”.
The Stories of Our Lives 