Rain.

I woke up to rain. Relentlessly tap-tap-tapping like impatient fingernails on the velux window at 3am. I didn’t get back to sleep after that. Just lay in bed, restless, thinking about the rain.

After the scorching, record-breaking heatwaves of summer, the parched ground needs it. Is thirsty for it. Goodness knows, we hoped for it during those sweltering months. Still, arising to a grey, dreary day of steady rain is a mood-dampener. Without a sliver of bright sky to lift the spirits, my prospects for the day ahead drain away. The world is stripped of colour. I had planned to go out on my bike, go to the gym, get things done. I still could, of course. But how to flip the switch, make the day one of possibility again?

The cat wanders about restlessly, swishing her tail, complaining. She doesn’t know what to do with herself. Scratching at doors, and carpets, and furniture, she looks at me accusingly, as if I could stop the rain and am simply choosing to inconvenience her.

Perhaps I will pretend I am in a Scandi-noir drama. I will infuse every interaction with intense, brooding glances, hearing the ominous music in my head as I attempt to solve a brutal crime.

I contemplate gloomily how much more of this we have to come. All the signs point to a future of summer droughts followed by winter storms, the seasons themselves disappearing, giving way to a never-ending cycling of heat and flood. We are only at the beginning. I wonder how much more the changing climate has in store. And this in a country of relative privilege and plenty. A country resilient to shocks, and yet people are still losing their homes. I think of the floods in Nepal, a country that has done so little to contribute to the problem, facing devastation on an unimaginable scale. This rain is nothing out of the ordinary, not yet. And I should be grateful for it.

Perhaps this is a day for staying home and writing. Except I need fresh air, I need exercise. I need to move my muscles, or my body won’t thank me later. So I will go outside, get my bike out, feel the rain running over my skin and dripping from my hair. I will accomplish something today.

There are more people out and about than I thought there would be. Plenty on their way to work, or heading back from the school drop-off. The autumn term has started after all, and we are all settling back into our routines. One or two people are out running. There is freedom to be found in running in the rain, if you can motivate yourself to go. The gym is drab and grey with tiled office ceilings that bear the stains of previous leaks. It’s quiet this morning. The entrance is through a dilapidated multi-storey car park, not exactly enticing. But once you’re in there it’s OK. It weeds out the posers. Nothing about it would be classed as Instagram-friendly, but everyone there is pleasant. Some teenage boys help each other lift weights. An older woman walks slowly on the treadmill.

Afterwards I feel more alive in body in spirit. As I come out into the air, the sky is a little less grey. It’s still raining, but there is a patch where the light is coming through. I have accomplished something today. Now, with a cup of tea in hand, I am ready to begin the day anew.