Beautiful writing. I felt reconnected from the element I’m made from, to earth and beyond. OK I’ll try going for a walk in the rain, instead of gloomily watching it from in doors!
Your words fell on me like Grace. On this post-election day, saddened and somewhat perplexed by the “teetering of [human] life,“ I saw metaphor in your powerful poetic words, and was soothed by your comforting voice.
Oh Laurie, what news. How do we all go forwards from this in hope and love? I’m glad to hear my words helped in some small way. We teeter onwards together, holding each other up.
Thank you for this gentle, thought provoking writing on a day of too many awful thoughts. I love walking in the rain and will think of your words as I do.
Yes - water - so ubiquitous for many of us that we no longer really see it. I know, because I live on a riverbank, but I also lived in the deserts of Central Australia for some years, and literally ran out into the night into a storm, to dance naked in the rain, after 10 months without any rainfall at all....
Your description of rain in the Orkneys is sublimely beautiful, Samantha, and the meditation on water that flows from it.
This morning I left a sunny Inverness, travelled west into rain at Fort William, and arrived home to Kintyre in fog. Plenty of rain, not much time for a wander, just a quick search for my ponies at the far side of a foggy field, but that was nice enough. I need some time in nature now, just me, the dog and the trees, to reconnect and make sense of the world and myself. Thanks for this lovely writing, it’s helping to ground me again.
Sam, so good to hear your voice and words! Your explanation of water’s life span was also an immersion in time. Big Time! Many humans, myself included, regard time from the viewpoint of our own life expectancies. Quite grateful you expanded my notions of time.
Another impending tropical storm, possibly a relatively timid hurricane, is fast approaching the southeastern US. Oddly dovetailing with your essay: The passing of time before expected landfall. Water, immediate in the torrential rains, yet consisting of aged water. And walking in the rain with attire as required.
A walk in the rain, from 53 ya, has stayed with me ever since. Unplanned I found myself in the company of a lovely woman I knew from college. After an earlier wedding reception she invited me to come to her apartment for a visit. The warm June evening featured a gentle rain. A rinse after the day’s events. After visiting briefly, she asked if I’d like to walk in the rain. No Gortex. No umbrellas. No rain shoes, only bare feet. “Time” did not come along for the walk, which seemed of great duration? A very sensual feel as we held hands on the walk. Retreating from the rain and entering her apartment quickly demonstrated how soaking wet we’d become! Awkwardly negotiating that fact, the resolution was to shed our clothes, a quick wash cycle, then a trip to the dryer. Terry cloth bathrobes offered concealment. Up to that point time had twisted like a Dali image. And we weren’t glancing at clocks. All that changed with her invitation to “see” her bedroom! Conflicted, as I was dating another woman, yet in the moment I was attracted to her. And the dryer hadn’t stopped. Admitting my conflict I said I’d be leaving once the dryer stopped.
Not intended as a tale of sex, drugs, and rock and roll. Rather the effect of water and rain, darkness, and human contact to exemplify the relativity of time and the experience of water. I’d decline a walk in Orcadian rain late in the fall, even with rain gear.
Thank you, I didn't know about the new discovery of original water, that adds an entirely new dimension to water being the source of everything. And yes, I need to remember that I'm perfectly happy being out in the rain. It's just grey here today but I know getting outside will still be helpful.
I do so empathise with you Sam, and I think we're all being affected by the seemingly constant wetness these days - be it mist, drizzle, showers or full-on downpour, and I can never understand our apparent inability to store it in some way for the droughts we are getting in the summer. What gets me through this depressing weather is reminding myself of the countries who have constant drought, where humans and animals die, and children walk miles to fetch polluted water to drink. I still feel wet and a bit gloomy, but a bit more resigned to inhabiting the Northern Hemisphere!
A beautiful, disturbing piece of writing. Am reading it on a very disturbing day…
Disturbing indeed…heartbreakingly so.
Beautiful writing. I felt reconnected from the element I’m made from, to earth and beyond. OK I’ll try going for a walk in the rain, instead of gloomily watching it from in doors!
Pull on that Goretex! (Mind you, I find wearing glasses is a bit of a rain hazard…)
I love your writing Sam, your water exploration is fascinating. You inspired me, I will try to walk in the rain more often 🌧️😉
Thank you Maria. Living in Scotland we get plenty of opportunity….!
Ah, a fellow Scot! Beautiful photos and descriptions of rain.
It's our birthright...I was born in Glasgow. I am semi-aquatic.
Samantha, you are an alchemist of water, experiencing and expressing its very nature, for which most of us are pretty limited. Thank you so much.
Thank you so much, Cathie, I'm so glad it resonated for you.
How true. Nothing is forever and we are caught up in natural forces greater than ourselves.
Yes, Susan it's easy to forget isn't it? And yet remembering does help us keep things in persepective...
Your words fell on me like Grace. On this post-election day, saddened and somewhat perplexed by the “teetering of [human] life,“ I saw metaphor in your powerful poetic words, and was soothed by your comforting voice.
Oh Laurie, what news. How do we all go forwards from this in hope and love? I’m glad to hear my words helped in some small way. We teeter onwards together, holding each other up.
A wonderful read. Thank you. 🫶🏻
Thank you!
such elegant and inspiring writing - thank you for sharing
Thank you for this gentle, thought provoking writing on a day of too many awful thoughts. I love walking in the rain and will think of your words as I do.
Yes, so many awful thoughts here too, Tamsin. May the rain wash them away...but in fact we have sunshine today, so, even better!
Yes - water - so ubiquitous for many of us that we no longer really see it. I know, because I live on a riverbank, but I also lived in the deserts of Central Australia for some years, and literally ran out into the night into a storm, to dance naked in the rain, after 10 months without any rainfall at all....
Your description of rain in the Orkneys is sublimely beautiful, Samantha, and the meditation on water that flows from it.
I, too, love walking in the rain....
Such extremes of water and waterlessness you've experienced, David! Our mild green islands are so temperate by comparison.
A beautiful essay on a not-so-beautiful day in America.
Sending solidarity and love across the miles, Kathryn.
This morning I left a sunny Inverness, travelled west into rain at Fort William, and arrived home to Kintyre in fog. Plenty of rain, not much time for a wander, just a quick search for my ponies at the far side of a foggy field, but that was nice enough. I need some time in nature now, just me, the dog and the trees, to reconnect and make sense of the world and myself. Thanks for this lovely writing, it’s helping to ground me again.
There's nothing like the sweet smell of damp ponies in long, wet grass to ground us, Sarah!
Sam, so good to hear your voice and words! Your explanation of water’s life span was also an immersion in time. Big Time! Many humans, myself included, regard time from the viewpoint of our own life expectancies. Quite grateful you expanded my notions of time.
Another impending tropical storm, possibly a relatively timid hurricane, is fast approaching the southeastern US. Oddly dovetailing with your essay: The passing of time before expected landfall. Water, immediate in the torrential rains, yet consisting of aged water. And walking in the rain with attire as required.
A walk in the rain, from 53 ya, has stayed with me ever since. Unplanned I found myself in the company of a lovely woman I knew from college. After an earlier wedding reception she invited me to come to her apartment for a visit. The warm June evening featured a gentle rain. A rinse after the day’s events. After visiting briefly, she asked if I’d like to walk in the rain. No Gortex. No umbrellas. No rain shoes, only bare feet. “Time” did not come along for the walk, which seemed of great duration? A very sensual feel as we held hands on the walk. Retreating from the rain and entering her apartment quickly demonstrated how soaking wet we’d become! Awkwardly negotiating that fact, the resolution was to shed our clothes, a quick wash cycle, then a trip to the dryer. Terry cloth bathrobes offered concealment. Up to that point time had twisted like a Dali image. And we weren’t glancing at clocks. All that changed with her invitation to “see” her bedroom! Conflicted, as I was dating another woman, yet in the moment I was attracted to her. And the dryer hadn’t stopped. Admitting my conflict I said I’d be leaving once the dryer stopped.
Not intended as a tale of sex, drugs, and rock and roll. Rather the effect of water and rain, darkness, and human contact to exemplify the relativity of time and the experience of water. I’d decline a walk in Orcadian rain late in the fall, even with rain gear.
Sounds like the rain had quite an effect on you both! Thanks for sharing that story, Gary!
Your writing has helped me think beyond today and this crazy world to a timeless time and a world full of wonder 🙏
We need to hold onto that today, yes.
Thank you, I didn't know about the new discovery of original water, that adds an entirely new dimension to water being the source of everything. And yes, I need to remember that I'm perfectly happy being out in the rain. It's just grey here today but I know getting outside will still be helpful.
Yes, all you need are decent waterproofs…and an additional benefit to walking in the rain is that you can’t use your smartphone!
Yep, I went just went for a quick wander and had to dig out the emergency fleece from the boot of the car!
I do so empathise with you Sam, and I think we're all being affected by the seemingly constant wetness these days - be it mist, drizzle, showers or full-on downpour, and I can never understand our apparent inability to store it in some way for the droughts we are getting in the summer. What gets me through this depressing weather is reminding myself of the countries who have constant drought, where humans and animals die, and children walk miles to fetch polluted water to drink. I still feel wet and a bit gloomy, but a bit more resigned to inhabiting the Northern Hemisphere!
I know, it has felt a bit relentless in much of the UK this year, but we can't take all this fresh water for granted.
Absolutely.