Raindrops keep falling on my head

After a scorching February I was already longing for the cool end-of-year rainy season, a kind of winter for those of us in the tropics.

I would be drenched in perspiration by the time I get to the train station. All around, the grass dried up and turned a combustible shade of brown. People started wearing resigned, heat-withered expressions and an unmistakable air of anticipation slowly built up.

Kazumi-sensei recalls March last year as a rather wet month; with almost daily rain showers. "Strange," she remarked.

Worse, the notorious haze created by slash-and-burn agriulture in (probably) Indonesia resurfaced, clogging the air with tiny ash particles and imparting a burnt smell one immediately detects upon going outdoors. No more jogging then, until it abated.

Finally, and the sense of relief was evident on people's faces, blogs and Facebook updates, the heavens opened.

*Patter*patter*patter* A welcoming crescendo of raindrops swept against the window panes. The walk to the train station immediately seemed much more enjoyable.

Walking in the rain with only a small foldable umbrella, I hugged my backpack closer. Steam rose from the hot asphalt in sighing contentment. The fragrance of wet grass and leaves wafted in the air. People hurriedly retreated into houses and nearby cafes for shelter, taking a welcome respite from the hustle and bustle of daily life.

The world descended into a kind of quiet serenity. Few other passers-by remained on the streets, leaving me alone to appreciate the sudden emptiness.

*Patter*patter*patter* Nothing else seemed to exist except for the sound of rain on my umbrella. Sometimes the wind playfully sent rain onto me from various directions. Changing the angle of the umbrella to defend myself from the teasing raindrops became a game, the umbrella a magical shield, the wind and rain a onslaught of elemental energy.

Upon reaching the beach, the rain stopped, leaving only cumulo-nimbus clouds high up in the sky. The grass quickly dried, leaving perfect campsites. The air was fresh again, not in the crisp way it was in the mountains, but still refreshing with a saltish tang from the sea.

Because of the rain, the skies cleared up and the constellations revealed themselves overhead. Orion, Canis Major, Taurus and even the Red Planet, if our iPhone app was to be believed.

Reclining on the ground, gazing at the stars with coconut trees outlined against the night sky, I listened to the unceasing song of the waves. The unrelenting heat before the rains became just a memory for the time being.