Opening the kitchen window, I could feel raindrops hitting my skin with the force of a typewriter’s typebar striking paper – pitter-PAT-punctuation – the air smelling strongly of petrichor, the percussion of palms and the umbrella of fig leaves struggling to stay erect under the relentless downpour. And as immediate as its arrival, so sudden was its disappearance.

We hope you come again soon, Odinson…we need more rain.