“Predicting rain doesn’t count, building an ark does.”
-Warren Buffet
Hello,
My name is Rain, Rain Cloud. I am told it’s the shade of my skin, darker than acceptable, lending me my name. I am told it’s the most waited moment for farmers, to spot rain clouds in the sky, to sow the seeds. I don’t know who I am in the greater context, I don’t know if I am defined by how I look or what I can do, immigrant in a country where I am my skin color and I am also the entirety of my dream.
The first rain. Smell of petrichor. There is no greater feeling than walking on the streets as the rain drops hit the sidewalk and drench you to the core. No umbrella to shelter, and rain coat to protect. Just you and the nature. Going home to a warm shower and hot cup of coffee, a window to watch the rain with a book to curl up with. The pitter patter of raindrops, gentle swishing of leaves in the wind, summer dust being washed away to the ocean. Cobwebs deep within the soul feel cleansed in that experience.
Childhood memories of running into the classroom from playground. Running home from school bus partially pulling out the hood of the raincoat to let the rain soak you, but not get in trouble with mom for taking off the coat. Running out of the house when the rain stops to play in the puddles. Launch paper boats in the flowing water on streets.. Teach little kids how to make boats.. Use paper from assignments that you got a low grade on or hated for your boats..Be yelled at by someone for ruining paper. Cry walking in the rain because your heart broke and you can’t tell the world. Call the one you love to come and hold you when it rains, watching the power of nature together. Call the one you love to cuddle with you, share your coffee and put your book away. Struggle to balance strollers and shopping bags in rain. Lose balance walking in the muddied waters at the job site. Lose self under the umbrella and rain coat when it rains. Wish you could be carefree once again, not worry about slipping and falling, not worry about getting sick or caring for the sick... open up your senses to nature, clear the cobwebs. Make the moment about me.
My name is rain clouds, and the smell of rain defines me.
That smell is home.
That smell is happiness.
That smell is liberating.
Here is continuing “Project 250”, a personal project based on Michael Sorkin’s Two Hundred Fifty Things an Architect Should Know.
85. The smell of concrete after rain.
Australian researchers describe Petrichor as a combination of plant oils and the chemical compound geosmin which are released from the soil when it rains. There have been many attempts to recreate that smell in perfumes, but personally, I feel that the emotions attached to the smell of petrichor are not limited to the smell… it’s the experience that comes with it. You cannot recreate that experience though you can bottle a memory associated with it.
Smell of concrete after the rain.
Growing up in India, I have been fortunate enough to smell the concrete after the rain — on the sidewalks, building walls, flat roofs and terraces, and sometimes wet concrete being poured while the rain prediction is in the horizon. The heady smell of chemicals and gases interacting, nature and pollution coming together. The first rain on the concrete creating efflorescence patches… the first rain on curing concrete helping it harden… the first rain on freshly poured concrete rendering it weak.
What is it about the smell of concrete after the rain?
It’s the privilege of the safety of a sidewalk to walk on.
It’s the privilege of not fearing skidding vehicles hitting pedestrians.
It’s the privilege of knowing the rain didn’t wash away your belongings.
It’s the privilege of slowing down to enjoy the moment.
It’s the privilege of self care.
It’s the privilege of focusing inwards, being in tune with the nature.
Petrichor is a privilege.
It’s November already, and fresh out of the Silverado fires, my world is waiting for the first drop of rain on the sidewalks, pouring down the mountains, cleaning the dust and smoke, renewing the vegetation, renewing life and clearing the memories of past. It’s been a crazy year, and as much as I would like to walk away from every experience handed this year, I cannot escape the anticipation of election results tonight.
