We were woken at 2am by the thunder. We had been warned, AEMET had been predicting rain. Like all rain in a Spanish summer, it comes in fits and starts. Grey skies then blue, white fluffy clouds, so pretty you can’t imagine it raining again. Then an hour later, more rain, more thunder. It pounds down, bouncing off the dry earth, scattering dirty droplets of water on walls and paths, forcing geraniums to weep their petals like red confetti. We stand on the terrace and look left… … and right… Is that the end of it, or will another downpour creep up on us? Plant saucers overflow… … a sprinkling of raindrops sit as evidence of the storm, though now the skies are clear… … on honeysuckle… … on palm leaf… … as the sun re-emerges, the wet terrace steams, the puddles shrink… … and the lizards re-appear from their hiding places behind plant pots, in the rose bush, deep in the tangle of honeysuckle and ivy, from inside the metal pergola supports… 5 to remember
a los tropezones – in fits and starts
no se puede imaginar – you can’t imagine
[algo] apporea – [something] pounds down
unas gotitas – some droplets
el confeti – the confetti