A rainy day in Sydney is very much alive with colour and sound and beautiful clouds. There is the sound of rain and of wind, trees twisting in the wind, lightning arcing across the sky, the loud colours of living plants highlighted in the glistening wet. Not to mention the scent of damp earth, and eucalytpus. How can anyone not love all that?
The tuktuk plowed through deep water on flooded back roads. The tuktuk suddenly began leaning toward the right. So there I was, standing under an awning by the side of a small road, looking at a disabled tuktuk and listening to the rain.
I love the sound of rain on a tin roof. It’s like music made by nature and humans working together. I just let the sound of the rain wash over me. Having lived most of my life in semi-dry climates rain always seems special to me.
August is rainy season in Cambodia. There was rain most days, some thunderstorms and flooding. I love it here. It is, the perfect blend of familiar and foreign. I speak survival Khmer – enough to get around, not enough to converse.
The TCK workers’ retreat in Thailand went really well. There were only 6 people, but the small size gave us some flexibility. I had wondered if there was enough “content” but was committed to making it a restful experience. Looking back I’m glad the time was not more structured and that the sessions were so…