Tuesday, April 10, 2007

Early yesterday morning I was awoken by the ghost of rain

Or, less poetically, it might have been a troupe of tap-dancing seagulls.

Either way, it sounded exactly like rain; quite heavy rain; possibly even hail. And it continued to sound like rain for a good few minutes, even as I stood at the window staring at a clear sky, not a hint of precipitation in sight. Closing and re-opening both the curtains and my eyes confirmed only that there was definitely no rain to be seen.

And, nope, I hadn't got dreams and reality confused. Again.

Perhaps, then, that dark cloud I sometimes feel hovering above my head had finally tried to rain on me?

I have no idea.

Since all explanations I can come up with are plainly ridiculous (though I rather like the idea of being woken by the ghost of rain), has anyone else got any ideas?

13 comments:

Taiga the Fox said...

It was clearly one of these:
a) you heard the hailstorm, which was here on the weekend
b) all the nails of your roof are gone with the wind and tomorrow you will wake up all wet
c) it was the sound of your brain dividing (there isn't room for all the spirits of the spirits inside one head )
d) it was Michael Flatley practicing Fiddler on the Roof

Occasional Poster of Comments said...

Flatley, eh? Hmm, the tapping on the roof must have stopped at some point... ooh, perhaps the ridiculously be-headbanded, living personification of smugness fell off whilst attempting some particularly manic-legged fiddling? [Sighs happily and begins to feel all warm and fuzzy inside]...

Mind you, he wasn't there later in the day, so he can't have been too badly injured. More's the pity.

Ooh, unless the injuries were to his arms - they just hang uselessly by his sides most of the time anyway; I doubt even he'd notice if they stopped working. But they still might hurt...

Erm, yes, anyway, enough of that...


I only thought after I read your comment, I actually got up to look because I wondered if it was hail, which seemed really unlikely given how hot it's been here. I mean, I was expecting some kind of spectacular downpour, at the very least; you know, something worth getting out of bed for.

Most mystifying.

Occasional Poster of Comments said...

For those who might not know, I have a longstanding and perfectly rational hatred of Michael Flatley - in other words, the ugliness above wasn't just misplaced Resnick anger. Bloody Resnick.

David Marc Napier Bate said...

It's your dreams, mate; it's all in your dreams!!

Occasional Poster of Comments said...

Nope, this time I'm absolutely certain it happened.

There probably is a rational explanation, but I'm damned if I can find it.

patroclus said...

I can't stop laughing at the phrase 'manic-legged fiddling'.

Occasional Poster of Comments said...

Thanks :)

I may adopt that as my definition of Riverdance. Though why I might need one I have no idea.

miss-cellany said...

Perhaps it was merely a premonition of copious amounts of poker chips falling abundantly upon you?

emapple said...

Just testing - for some reason every time I try and post a comment on your blog, it doesn't like me for some reason.

So this, is just a test to see whether this comment appears

xx

Jacqui said...

Maybe the rain stopped at the edge of your building.

Occasional Poster of Comments said...

>>Perhaps it was merely a premonition of copious amounts of poker chips falling abundantly upon you?<<

That would explain why I've never heard it before. Mind you, I usually don't check to see whether there really is rain. God, all the poker wins I might have missed out on...

Occasional Poster of Comments said...

>>Maybe the rain stopped at the edge of your building.<<

Hmm, I guess it has to stop somewhere...

I wonder if the end of the rainbow was above my roof that morning too. If it was, that conclusively disproves the thing about crocks of gold.

Occasional Poster of Comments said...

Emily, I seem to remember that if you're not signed in to blogger when you click publish it might eat your comment.

Anyway, good to see you here :)