While I’ve been in Costa Rica I’ve really struggled to smell the rain. Yes, you did read that right. I’m serious however; it’s really off putting. In Sydney and in other places I’ve lived I’ve been able to smell the rain well before it arrives but not here, not in Costa Rica. In some respects it might be because its ALWAYS threatening to rain here and I’m here during the rainy season so a scientific person would say that if I can actually smell the rain when I’m at home then I probably can’t smell it here in Costa Rica because there is so much water in the air that I can’t tell the difference.
Today was no exception, though likely nobody needed a special nose to know that it was going to rain today. The clouds were thick and grey from the first thing in the morning and didn’t change all day – though it’s a bit hard to tell now that its pitch black outside. Suffice it to say that it did in fact start raining about mid to late afternoon. Started and didn’t stop. There is so much rain that just keeps getting stronger and stronger that I’m genuinely starting to wonder if the water is going to start lapping at my doorstep (a good foot of the ground). Certainly the river is going to be much, much higher than I’ve ever seen it (though whether that holds out till tomorrow is another question).
This kind of weather is the sort of weather that I really, unreservedly love. There is just something about the roar of the rain on the roof, the regular flashes of lightning and the deep rumble of thunder threatening to burst through the roof that really gets into my veins and then penetrates deeper. Days like today I tend to think that if someone were to ask me why I am a pagan and a heathen, I would answer with “Because the storm said so.” A true thunderstorm with heavy rain, wild winds, explosive thunder and great gouts of lightning in the sky strikes something within me like few other things do.