Glorious rain arrives finally

RAIN, glorious rain; Dr Airdre Grant’s weekly column shares her joy at the wet weekend

The weekend’s rain was a welcome sight in Lismore.

ALL the rain dances and thoughts and prayers finally worked when a giant storm hit our town and rain bucketed down.

Overjoyed, people stood out in the street with faces raised to the heavens to receive a good drenching.

They walked back into their houses with dripping heads, sodden clothes and glowing faces.

The rain gusted through the windows and onto the furniture, there were wet footprints everywhere … no one cared.

We had waited so long for this glorious, thundery moment.

For now, the dust was settled, water tanks somewhat replenished, gardens slightly revived.

The mood shifted, just for a moment, from dusty despair to water logged delight.

Of course, there are still fires across the land and the government appears to continue to be resistant to the idea of climate change, but down here on the street the gutters were running and the frogs began to croak.

We had a brief, watery reprieve in a time of awful heat and dust.

And Christmas is coming.

Soon everyone will stop work and gather with friends and families and take time to rest and reflect. It’s been a tough year. There has been an extraordinary collection of political posturing and fights in the world and at home, wars and arguments, great sports and exciting arts but most of all, the focus has been on the weather and the news is always grim.

So, this Christmas, the emphasis is on giving to communities of people and animals who have suffered and on trying very, very hard to reduce the seemingly unstoppable avalanche of plastic crap that threatens our lives from the bottom of the ocean up.

But if despair about the state of the world feels too much, and for me it frequently does, then I suggest you listen to Tim Minchin’s Christmas song White Wine in the Sun. I defy you not to cry. Clever and touching, the song is about families and how we all need to connect with those we love, to sit and eat together, to simply stop and look around and, just for now, lay down your guns and give thanks.

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