Over in Facebookland, a friend of mine is doing a daily update of something she’s thankful for, in the run up to Thanksgiving. I suppose this set of musings is a fairly similar notion.
Some of the idea of the ‘box of delights’ is a reappreciation of little things – with perhaps some encouragement to my gentle readers to remember, and even try, little delights that you’ve not tried for a while. These are mine – some of them may be yours too.
So: rain on the windows. This isn’t something we get to try. In Scotland, we clearly are more in the camp of trying not to have rain on the windows. So why is this something to treasure?
It depends who you are. And it depends whether you like an excuse to stay at home. And above all, it’s the sound of the rain on the windows. Whether the initial spatter that you barely take in, to the more gradual swell of sound for a storm that’s rapidly gaining ground.
I draw the line at hail. It’s a bit more spiky as a sound. Fun for a bit, but less frequent, lasting a shorter time. Hail doesn’t have the same ‘I guess I’ll have to stay in then’ connotations – where actually, you’re quite glad of the chance to stay put. Have another cup of tea. Relocate that book, and dive in.
For families, rain on the windows may be the sound of doom, depending on whether it’s school run time, or small people punching the walls and each other time, or family outing time. Perpetual steady (but not too bright) sunlight would be great, thanks, and why is it so much to ask for?
But there are times when a wet Saturday afternoon heralds the film for everyone. A board game, if everyone’s stress levels can take it. Some music in the background. A large project – rain is the best excuse for crafting and building things – or a little light pottering in the kitchen.
Part of the point of rain, I feel, is re-appreciation of shelter. Home. Being indoors when rain is lashing down outside is a comforting thing, occasionally even a slightly smug thing, if you’ve just got home in time. But perhaps the best rain sound is the light pattering on the windows as evening falls, or at bedtime.
You weren’t going out in it anyway. Ideally, you’d take the swell of the sea, or the warbling of a stream, as a sound to fall asleep to. But rain will work just fine.