Today I witnessed an unusual downpour. it was trickling one minute and suddenly out from the sky came a deluge. The water poured at a prodigious rate, and everything was water and fury.
Walking around in the rain felt a bit like home. It's an unusual thing. I feel most comfortable in climes that imitate Ireland and England. That dreary, rainy thing just suits me better.
Not sure what to make of that. I could come up with explanations regarding my heritage or something like that. I don't feel like doing that. This isn't an observation made as a foil for biological or psychological musing. I just felt like noting how good it feels to have the water flowing down.
It isn't the rain that depresses me, it is the need, (or social construction) to stay inside that depresses me. It is this insularity, and separation from nature that makes me feel uncomfortable. That's true a lot of the time. I don't feel right surrounded by the sounds of machines.
We go camping because we like that feeling. We like that closeness. I don't understand people who go "camping" with a trailer, or with electronics, or with any number of other things. It is this tie to and reliance on technology, and artificiality which seems to cause so much ill. It's not suggested much, but our move from living with nature, to living against it is a possible cause to many of our ills.
People are so afraid of getting wet that they lug around umbrellas, and put on heavy coats. It's as funny as it is sad.
Like so much else, I wish for a change. Some sort of change.