Chris
was away on a service call yesterday which stretched WAY into the night over in
Illinois, and
I don’t sleep well when he’s not at home.
The sounds of a quiet house are vast and different---the quiet shussssh
and click of the clear cubes falling in the ice-maker, the faithful real tick-tock of
the pendulum on the den clock, the whoooosh of the furnace clicking on at its
needed intervals.
And
there was a slow, soothing rain out there beyond my window, coupled with enough
breeze to keep a constant tune amongst all the wind-chimes in the eaves. The raindrops must have been enormous
spattery ones, like one of those Summertime rains which tempts you out onto the
porch to tuck your feet beneath you in the swing, enjoying the movement of the swing and dance of the drops. Remember those stolen hours, with the rain just a hands-breadth away through the porch screen, and how you had to wipe an errant splash or two from your book? And how that simple bit of weather changed the tenor of the day into something strange and memorable by the snug rarity of it?
I
could hear the rain landing on the patio, and in great thummms onto the “rain-tub”---Chris' idea---a #3 washtub turned upside down just outside the window, to make almost the same music as Mammaw’s tin
roof. And occasionally in the night, the clops onto the big blue tarp thrown over the snow-blower after the last use last week
were like intermittent herds of little horses, in a slow trot across my dreams.
Long
about four-by-the-bedside-clock, the whole experience was complete, as I
snuggled into all the pillows to the familiar call of a faraway train.
Ah, so beautifully written. As much as I've enjoyed the recent rains here in northern California, I can tell you I did not enjoy a thing about the last rain storm. It appeared in the wee hours of the morning, out of the blue, accompanied by 60 mph winds lashing at our bedroom window, with a good measure of hail just to make sure we knew of its arrival. I thought the window was going to break!
ReplyDeleteI share your difficulty sleeping with the night sounds, that is why I cannot ever have a tick-tocking clock in the house.
I love the sound of rain, especially on a tin roof. My gramma's house had a tin roof over the back room (called the "solarium" by my mother and the "sun room" by my gramma). The guest room window overlooked the roof and I can remember many nights listening to the patter of the rain drops.
ReplyDeleteAnd many days lying on a pile of towels on that reflective roof in the summer working on a terrific sunburn. Probably slathered in baby oil, too. YIKES!
Love the picture of the train. I rode on one once from OK to IA. I stay by myself so much at night it doesn't bother me. The city is a little moreso than the country and it has been crazy windy for the last two days. Hurry spring.
ReplyDeleteI thought you were going to mention the train.LOL. I lived by the road that ran along the track. I loved hearing the train. In the night now I can hear it two miles away. I will always love that sound. When we moved here...there were so many new sounds...it just about made me nuts. Like coyotes in the woods across the road...oh yes, you don't hear that in town. :) I liked your tub trick. I soft rain is my favorite, I also like thunder if it's far away. Blessings, xoxo,Susie
ReplyDeleteDear Rachel,
ReplyDeleteWhat a beautiful piece of writing! I adore the way you paint with words. All the sensations come to me as I read your writing - the sound, the taste, the vision...I love it all. Although I would never hear myself for saying this, I would miss the rain if I have to go away from my country. With best wishes, ASD
PS. Thank you so much for your beautiful comment, as always.
So well written.... I was almost there with you listening to the sounds of the quieted house.
ReplyDeletecielo
I, too, don’t sleep well in an empty house. Never have and wonder how my mother and daughter manage. I would be a zombie from lack of sleep.
ReplyDeleteI also love those rainy days!