I’ve always loved rainy mornings. There’s something about waking up to the patter of raindrops on the roof which I find incredibly refreshing and relaxing, and it’s definitely something I got used to living in England. This morning we woke to the sound of rain, and while it’s a familiar sound it’s also quite different. The sound of the rain is magnified on our metal roofs and is often punctuated by incredible claps of thunder. Its also substantially heavier than the endless days of drizzle I remember. Even the smell of it is different; desperately desired water falling on the dusty ground of Africa creates a different scent to droplets falling on tarmac and well laid lawns.
