Rain

The rain outside my building.

It's raining today in Riyadh.  I mean really pouring.  There is even thunder and lightning.  I have never enjoyed the sound of thunder and rain as much as I do right now.

Funny thing really, you don't know you are missing something so much until you are suddenly reminded of its absence.  Sure, there have been a few times that it has sprinkled here and there, but this is the first major rainstorm I've experienced in the 11 months I've been in Saudi. Until now, I hadn't realized how much I could miss something as simple as weather.

Riyadh boasts 331 days of sunshine a year, which is impressive, and some would even say enviable, but not to me.  There is a kind of monotony that sets in when the weather doesn't seem to change much day to day, or even month to month.  I never thought much about it before, but changes in the weather often came with changes in my mood.  I miss the way an autumn breeze that carries the smell of burning leaves can make you feel nostalgic, or the sense of anticipation you get when that crisp sharpness in the air that tells you snow is coming, or the way a gloomy day makes you feel that delicious kind of sadness that isn't really sad at all.  I even miss the way bad weather can ruin your plans and make you angry.

I guess what I miss most is feeling like the weather is a personality - not your friend or your enemy exactly - but another character, another variable to shake things up every now and then.   Here the weather is so constant, it feels like an unbreakable law of nature, like gravity or the laws of physics.

The gloomy clouds over Riyadh

So when I left for work this morning and found the sky covered in dark gray clouds, it felt a little like magic, and later, when I heard thunder rumbling for the first time in almost a year, it felt like something epic was happening, something almost apocalyptic.

Playing in the Rain

I'm supposed to be working now, but I ran outside like a crazy person to feel the rain on my face and dance around in puddles like a child.  I could see people gathered at the windows in all the buildings around me, watching the downpour with the kind of interest and curiosity reserved for anomalies like hailstorms in the United States.

I stayed outside until I could feel the rain seeping through my abaya to my clothes underneath, and then I stayed for a while longer, keeping dry under the eaves of the building, just watching car tires slice through the water, and windshieldwipers getting some much needed exercise.

When I finally went back inside, it felt like saying goodbye to an old friend after a chance meeting. You both know you can't stay forever, but you do wish you could somehow stretch the moment just a little longer, just enough for the memory to stick with you until the next chance encounter. Hopefully, the next time, it won't be so long in coming.