The One with the Rain

by Rie

Forgive me the following post. It’s raining. Huge exam tomorrow. Huge, terrifying exam tomorrow.

And, this, oddly will be on one of life’s happier notes. Or, rather, my curtains were closed for so long, a little light was almost foreign. (I’ll be drawing more parallels between moods and lighting conditions which is exactly why you’ll have to forgive me. Also, the weather.)

Context: Need to study. A lot of material to study. Overwhelmed. Stands by window. Sees rainbow lorikeets flying in, seeking shelter from the rain. (I don’t know if they’re actually rainbow lorikeets. I know I’m supposed to be a vet-to-be but I really, really don’t know my birds.)

It made me feel like Snow White. Except I didn’t call them by singing.

First there were two. They technically arrived at the same time, although I think the one on the left came later.


Then, there were three. (No picture for that.)

Then, there were four.


They sat there, watching me, as I watched them. They made faces at me and cleaned each other up and made little bird noises.

I had darted to my room for my phone (because I’m always without my phone) when there were only two and I was afraid they would leave, but they stayed. I thought myself quite lucky. Then, the third and fourth came and my brain was going, “They must really hate the rain to choose spending time with a gawking human at the window sill of the 6th floor over…everything else.”

And I stood there with them, for ten minutes, after all the photographs had been taken and I thought, “I wish I paid more attention in that wildlife course. I think they’re lorikeets but, for all I know, they’re parakeets or something.”

I’m still not sure what parakeets look like. I’ll have to look that up.

When I left for my room, they left, too.

I thought it was almost poetic. Imagine if you were standing at the window in the cold, watching the rain pour and the wind whip around, thinking, “Oh, God, life sucks.” Your vision is swimming in the greys and blues of an overcast day and you rather like it because you feel washed out in the same hues. A few birds join you – and that’s interesting because birds don’t benefit at all from spending time with you – and they’re beautiful. Then, it feels even more as if they were there for you because they came when you came and left when you left.

(To be honest, I was thinking of something far more long-winded than, “Life sucks,” but you’d make fun of me if you knew what was in my everyday mind, so that is the condensed version.)

Anyway, here’s the long of it: You know those cheesy quotes about how the rainbow comes after the storm? I don’t really trust those quotes because life tends to storm so much you barely have time to appreciate rainbows. But there’s something about feeling like you’re being pushed around by the torrential force of your own thoughts and emotions and inadequacy and, then, having four rainbows spend some time with you. It’s as if they’re showing you the little glimmers of what could be once you’ve figured out how to steer yourself without being moored at every turn.

(I did warn you this post was going to be odd. I don’t do happy very well, maybe.)

Here’s the short of it: Storm. Rainbow-coloured bird. Hope.

And, again, hope.