raining season is here
It was raining hard and long last night brought back to the memory of Saigon in the raining season.
Saigon has only two seasons: raining season and sunny season. Saigon does not have Autumn or Winter. Saigon winter the golden sun shines brightly. Saigon autumn is full of rain-storm. But Saigon has fallen leaves in spring time. April comes, star flowers and leaves along the streets start to fall. The clouds slowly come to Saigon and the heat reluctantly relaxes its sweltering choke hold on the air. It is the time of change. High above the rainy season flows across the sky in waves of rain, and I can feel the cooling effects of the approaching storm. My nose quickly smells the burnt of ozone of lighting and thunder rolls slashing the blaken clouds that dump untold trillion of raindrops, and I love it all. The rains are coming early this year. Unusually Saigon doesn't recieve its first rain until late May or early June, but no matter when it comes, the rainy season is the time I love most.
Years ago I lived in San Diego where it rarely rained. Oh how I deeply missed the rain. Without the nourishment of the rains trees were rare and from San Diego up to San Jose, it was just the long concrete freeways wandering the brown land, going through the cites, and then back out into the same brown bald hills.The weather was so dry and became even drier during the “winter” months of southern California. It made me long for the wet atmosphere of Saigon on raining season … I missed the rains there, Saigon rains, the tropical summer rains. My heart called for the heavy rain of my youth and I wanted once again to be awakened during the night by the rain…the music of the rain, listening to the rain’s melody, the raindrops clicking on the roof, knocking on the pavement.
Then that sound came to me one night, and the excitement pleased me, the wetness was as gentle as a cradle song, as light as a dream. Once again I was a girl and it was raining in Saigon. I arose from bed and in a drowsy walk I struggled outside to greet the rain…..my mother land rain. Then at that moment I awoke to realize that my rain was the sound of the automatic grass watering system. I missed too much a real heavy rain, a thunderstorm, I missed the smell, the sound of rains - the homeland rains with its call to romance as it slowly moved along.
Saigon June and July, it is raining season. Morning rains, evening rains and night rains. Rains, the season of joy for the people who like to watch the raindrops and listen to the many songs it brings. Rains, a hard season for street vendors, but as with all things, life went on, rain or not. Stay up late at night while most of the city is sleeping, I listen to the raindrops falling on the roof and the street-cries for wares through the night. The weary, weakly cries as a sight of rains. That sad night cries that carry a burden load of livelihood. The city is sleeping in the rain. Raindrops keep knocking on the pavement, sadly and lonely as the call girl's shoes coming home in the narrow dark alley. Here and there some cyclos move quietly in the dark raining night. Saigon in the rain...the roads soon become streams.
Saigon rain is my childhood world with the showers under rains - that was the only time I could ever shower. My little ducks do not know the pleasure of showering in the rains as I did long ago for Saigon is so crowded that there are no more empty places for kids to run under rains ... they were my moments and a time that will never come again. My Saigon is gone, but the rain reminds me of it all
Saigon has only two seasons: raining season and sunny season. Saigon does not have Autumn or Winter. Saigon winter the golden sun shines brightly. Saigon autumn is full of rain-storm. But Saigon has fallen leaves in spring time. April comes, star flowers and leaves along the streets start to fall. The clouds slowly come to Saigon and the heat reluctantly relaxes its sweltering choke hold on the air. It is the time of change. High above the rainy season flows across the sky in waves of rain, and I can feel the cooling effects of the approaching storm. My nose quickly smells the burnt of ozone of lighting and thunder rolls slashing the blaken clouds that dump untold trillion of raindrops, and I love it all. The rains are coming early this year. Unusually Saigon doesn't recieve its first rain until late May or early June, but no matter when it comes, the rainy season is the time I love most.
Years ago I lived in San Diego where it rarely rained. Oh how I deeply missed the rain. Without the nourishment of the rains trees were rare and from San Diego up to San Jose, it was just the long concrete freeways wandering the brown land, going through the cites, and then back out into the same brown bald hills.The weather was so dry and became even drier during the “winter” months of southern California. It made me long for the wet atmosphere of Saigon on raining season … I missed the rains there, Saigon rains, the tropical summer rains. My heart called for the heavy rain of my youth and I wanted once again to be awakened during the night by the rain…the music of the rain, listening to the rain’s melody, the raindrops clicking on the roof, knocking on the pavement.
Then that sound came to me one night, and the excitement pleased me, the wetness was as gentle as a cradle song, as light as a dream. Once again I was a girl and it was raining in Saigon. I arose from bed and in a drowsy walk I struggled outside to greet the rain…..my mother land rain. Then at that moment I awoke to realize that my rain was the sound of the automatic grass watering system. I missed too much a real heavy rain, a thunderstorm, I missed the smell, the sound of rains - the homeland rains with its call to romance as it slowly moved along.
Saigon June and July, it is raining season. Morning rains, evening rains and night rains. Rains, the season of joy for the people who like to watch the raindrops and listen to the many songs it brings. Rains, a hard season for street vendors, but as with all things, life went on, rain or not. Stay up late at night while most of the city is sleeping, I listen to the raindrops falling on the roof and the street-cries for wares through the night. The weary, weakly cries as a sight of rains. That sad night cries that carry a burden load of livelihood. The city is sleeping in the rain. Raindrops keep knocking on the pavement, sadly and lonely as the call girl's shoes coming home in the narrow dark alley. Here and there some cyclos move quietly in the dark raining night. Saigon in the rain...the roads soon become streams.
Saigon rain is my childhood world with the showers under rains - that was the only time I could ever shower. My little ducks do not know the pleasure of showering in the rains as I did long ago for Saigon is so crowded that there are no more empty places for kids to run under rains ... they were my moments and a time that will never come again. My Saigon is gone, but the rain reminds me of it all
Comments
Post a Comment