It rains a lot here; between 50 and 80 inches per year, and the humidity is at a minimum of 65% all year round. But mostly it rains in short, sharp bursts and then clears to glorious sunshine as the white clouds scutter briskly across the sky and everything looks washed brand new.
This is a volcanic island and over the years the rock has eroded down to a fine dark silt, like brown talcum powder. In concentrations of several compressed metres of this silt it looks a dark red, almost but not quite, like the colour of my beloved red earth country. Yet there must be a subtle differentation because the colour doesn't tug at my heartstrings like my land does.
When it rains a lot, like it is doing this morning, the silt is washed off all the outdoor surfaces but the compressed red earth makes gloriously sticky mud puddles. There is relatively little paved or tarmaced area here and most walking involves a tremendous amount of feet squelching into mud. It's a day to stay indoors and listen for the tap of raindrops leaking through the roof onto the kitchen floor; a day to watch the damp patches seep through the walls. No work for me until this evening probably means that its a day to stay in bed reading and being self indulgent. | 