It seems to me that since the drought broke in 2020 it rarely simply rains—rather it pours with a weight and drenching urgency.
Water. Cloud. Rain.
How can there be so much water in the sky? The thousands of litres floating, defying gravity until it doesn’t. And falls. It has been called a sky river by Robert Macfarlane. The water cycle, transpiration, precipitation, is a name which comes nowhere near capturing the wonder of this movement.
We must embrace the truth of water. Its being, its flowing, overflowing, fully expressed in the swirls and curls of motion —to stand and watch is intriguing.