Well so much for the Blitz Summer. True to form, it only lasted the predicted three days, during which everyone was fooled into wearing shorts, tank tops or nothing at all! It all came to a brutal end on Wednesday morning when the rain began and it feels as though it hasn’t stopped. So out came the sweaters socks and scarves, umbrellas and raincoats. Sigh. At least the heaters are still running in the building, but the absence of sun threw us all off track. The cats retreated to their comfort zones / caves and slept all day on Wednesday since it was dark for most of the time, displaying signs of displeasure and confusion. Can’t say I blame them and I had to smile when Oma Loli decided she was done for the day…
On the other hand, rain draws out the more adventurous river fowl who refuse to be cornered somewhere. I looked up from my desk when I heard a ruckus on the property wall and spotted the Quack Squad logging in a few flight hours. They usually don’t land so high up but there was something in the air that made them feel the need to take the high road and survey all lower mortals. It was hilarious to watch their running commentaries, and I felt as though I eavesdropping on the sports commentator’s box during a football match.
My daughter had a bout of cabin fever so she ventured out in the wind and rain and brought home some strawberries. So I made myself comfortable at the table and began slicing them for another batch of jam, under the close supervision of Oma Loli who bravely sat up and watched, but fell asleep midway. The apartment was dark thanks to the pouring rain, so my candles were lit, and I had Netflix’s Jane Eyre running in the background. I have to say, there is something incredibly romantic about cooking jam to a Jane Austen movie! They say your mood affects the food you cook, so the jam had a touch of passionate melancholia to it, and I love it!
As I have learned from many a photographer, there is no such thing as bad weather for shooting, you just have to know how to manipulate the light, change the angle and invert your plans. On that note, I’ve been playing in in the rain lately and listening with my soul.
Would I trade the cold and the rain by the river for the heat and humidity in an Asian metropolis? A year ago I would have packed my bags in an instant and fled for my beloved Asia. But for the first time in many years I have roots somewhere. I may not be sentimentally attached to Berlin as such, but Germany is home, with all its quicks and squares, and I have come to love the snow and appreciate the cold rain.