Leaden clouds hang in the sky. The anticipation of a downpour is thick in the air. We feel the winds pick up and hear the distant rumble of thunder.
A flash of lightening, then the plop of a drop: one, two and then a million! Large, heavy drops which, as they hit the ground, throw tiny pieces of dirt into the air. They create a small stream which runs past the front door. The hill is glistening, its granite shiny from the water.
Apart from the thunder and pounding of rain on the tin roof, all is silent. The birds have taken cover and the stock have run for the bush.
Five minutes of storm, five minutes of standing at the window in awe, then it stops – just as quickly as it started.
The black clouds roll into the distance and sun highlights the cleanliness of the country.
It’s gone. It is finished. And we race for the rain gauge.