The rain upon my windowpane

As I write my own thoughts are hard to hear above the persistent drumming of rain across my skylight. Its dark now and although I should be in the warm embrace of Morpheus, I’m not. Not at all. The sound of rain used to act as a lullaby to me, in fact while at university I used to have a recording of rain playing to drown out the noise of the town and the monkey attempting to turn the cogs in my head. This often resulted in concerned phone calls as people have presumed my room had sprung a leak. So why am I not snoozing away peacefully? Its because instead of soothing my mind the rain seeps into my subconscious, the sound of water falling stimulates memories and my brain flicks from one to the other instead of flicking off.

Rain reminds me of staring out of my university window, evilly giggling to myself as student desperately seek out shelter as their Ugg boots turn a blacker shade of brown and the rain splashes beautifully against the cobble stones. It also reminds me of sitting in comfort of sipping on hot coffee and being ever so glad I’m not in it. However, the most powerful memories from rain comes from the powerful rain I’ve experienced, the monsoon. It reminds me of watching as people dance through the street as the first monsoon rain falls and then begin to complain about it the next day and of walking barefoot through the streets enjoying the feeling of water rushing between my toes only to get home and discover that it wasn’t just water….

It’s not just rain that does this memory recap to me, I must confess. Snow reminds me of my dog, who upon seeing snow for the first time flipped between being incredible scared by this white blanket that covered his world to trying to eat every last snow flake that stood in his way. It also reminds me of having a huge snowball fight as a student, acting like 8 year olds. Tobogganing on a dinner tray, getting too cold heading to a pub for a few warming drinks and then doing it all again.

Thunder predictably reminds me of being young and afraid, of seeing the lightening and covers my ears tightly as I felt the world was going to shatter in two. As I grow older it now reminds me of leaning out of my window at home and watching as nature carves its way through the sky.

I don’t think I’m the only one with this weather nostalgia or perhaps I am just sentimental in my old –mental- age, plus living in England means I get to experience a lot of weather. But as I lie here and the rain begins to ease, I know that whatever changes happen in my life, I can rely on my love of nostalgia and the weather.

I’d love to know if you have a similar affliction so comment below and let me know.

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13 thoughts on “The rain upon my windowpane

  1. Nicole Miles says:

    I really like your form of writing. I found myself going through the memories of my life and your right weather can be a strong memory inhancer. I find music can also do the same type of things. Great writing!

  2. VIcki says:

    Remember when you, Peter and Nick took me to see Bagshu waterfall? You n Peter braved the icey cold water, i chickened out because of all the Indian men waiting to the wet t-shirt show? It began to rain on the way back and we sheltered in the tiny chai stall, laughing, drinking tons of chai, taking photos of the beautiful little girl and swapping ipods, i remember sitting half in and half out of the makeshift building and letting the warm rain run onto my bare legs, such a delicious feeling in the hot weather. It never did stop raining that day and you caught a cold but despite that , such happy memeories. Your blogs are beautiful and i’m sure they evoke such memories for many other readers too. Keep them coming.

    • James Dunn says:

      Thanks Vicks! I loved that day, well worth being violently sick the following day! The memory of us sat in that tiny tea hut looking out over the clouds and waterfall is really strong for me, I think of it when there is really heavy rain or really heavy fog. I’ll try and keep up the hard work, need to see my wonderful Indian sister soon, my beard misses you!

  3. Arnab Das says:

    Finally! The lengthy post evoking loads of emotions. One will hardly ever come across someone someone who doesn’t have a deep emotional bond with the monsoons. For me, monsoons are a time to look back and reflect; on what I’ve lost and gained and am about to lose, on life as a whole and so much more.

    You truly are a gifted writer, mate. Do keep writing regularly. You have a fans to appease.

    • James Dunn says:

      Thank you so much Arnab, you flatter me! I’m making sure I blog more regularly now, with more long posts as well as more photography. I’ll keep you posted but thank you for motivating me!

  4. hemp says:

    Youre reading Is there a certain smell that reminds you of someone or something?. …………………………What does it mean when you smell something that instantly reminds you of someone………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………….What does it mean when a smell reminds you of past………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………….Smell reminds me of………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………….Smell reminds you of someone you miss………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………….How to decorate a nursery at grandma s house………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………

  5. Thomson Voucher Code says:

    Finally! The lengthy post evoking loads of emotions. One will hardly ever come across someone someone who doesn’t have a deep emotional bond with the monsoons. For me, monsoons are a time to look back and reflect; on what I’ve lost and gained and am about to lose, on life as a whole and so much more.

    You truly are a gifted writer, mate. Do keep writing regularly. You have a fans to appease.

  6. ramaink says:

    Beautiful!
    I visited India during the monsoons last year and as I sat at the window glorying in its cool spray, its moist earthy perfume and its thunderous sound, I couldn’t help thinking of all the upturned faces peering out of shop windows, and doorsteps, and from under the semi dry rooftops of rickshaws, and how in that moment, we were all connected in our contemplation of its magnificence.
    Have you noticed how it rains differently in different places? The rain in India is not the same as the rain in America. They each have their appeal, but, they are significantly different appeals.

  7. ramaink says:

    No, I don’t think its sad to enjoy rain so much. I think its soulful. I think its stealing a moment in time because time stops when it rains. I know I do. 🙂

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