Days of rain and weather

The redemption of sunrise

The day began with a flat white sun in the dull sky. Gleaming just beyond the clouds, its heat just out of reach. It was uncertain what the weather would do. It could be one of those indifferent spring days: windless, chilly and shadowless. But as noon approached, the rain began and it never stopped. It rained the rest of the day. Rain dripped from overhangs and onto leaves where there were leaves, or went straight into the ground, swelling the soil with each drop. Invisible wet fruit, disappearing from sight, to later appear in the bursting buds and rising sap.

It was impossible to garden after the rains began. It wasn't one of those rains which swept in and then left, like rolling waves or riding horses. It just stayed. I have lived long enough in Ireland to recognise the different kinds of rain. This is rain that falls straight and true and constantly. Rain that makes you look outside and be glad that there is an inside.

I began this last night and it is STILL raining. The morning began promisingly enough and then - rain.

It's the kind of rain that makes you think spring will never arrive. The kind of rain that makes you think of the wetness of winter and the skies of Donegal.

I did lots yesterday. But when i woke up today and was meant to start with some writing and then gardening i looked at the skies and thought, oh i why don't i just stay in bed? I partly watched this documentary the BBC did about Singapore at 50. How come i just don't share in being completely impressed with Marina Bay Sands and frankly those incredible feats of architecture and construction? How come i don't go, wow! How come? How come i look at them i just see a pile of nonsense? Perhaps it is what endures which really counts for me and when i see the buildings and the roads and the everything, all i can think of is how ephemeral it is. I think of Venice, a shell, hollowed out and covered in silt and tourists. I think of places which were once centres of commerce and empire - like Rome. Or Persepolis. Or Byzantium. I see places which are fundamentally out of kilter, which require too much from the human soul to survive.

There was a woman in the documentary who had more than 200 Hermes handbags, costing an average of $20,000 each. Another woman who lived in a one room flat with her four children with a fifth one on the way. A stockbroker and his wife and their sweet daughters who just didn't know any better. The stockbroker or investment funds manager carried away with all the businesses in Singapore. Completely overawed by himself. His wife, silent and nodding. He spoke for her. It was a Raymond Carver story set in wealth and soft furnishings.

But what is the difference between all those civilisations which have fallen and ours now? That at least there was enough of earth for those who survived it to recover. There is now not enough earth for us to survive. The earth can no longer sustain the consumption. We have run out of wiggle room. We have set ourselves on the course of the Unforgiveable. We are the Unforgiven. That is the difference.

Maybe not. Maybe not. But as we run out of everything and as politicians and business only care about themselves and not about the biggest picture, what hope is there? Then i see people like that investment manager going into orgasms over places and Singapore, completely unaware of what it has cost humanity, just only caring about how well he looks, it makes me want to weep. I see no hope in his eyes. To me he is no better than an eight year old child going - see, look at how clever i am. Admire me. I am meant to be admired for having succeeded in amassing all this shite.

And people are taken in by this. People fall for this. People fawn and kowtow and grovel and lose their sense of self because of what money has bought. They do not see beyond the illusion. I want to do something to unmask the illusion. I want to do something like that other eight year old child and shout - the Emperor has no clothes!

The rains have cleared up so i will do some planting before they start again. I have nothing to say to what Singapore can offer - i love the danaus and the gunungs more. I love the rainforest and the clear sweet rivers. I love the shores of Rathlin and the sunsets more. A sunset is not made more stunning by being sat in a pool overlooking the end of civilisation.

Somehow though, it needs to be redeemed. Can it be redeemed? Can everything be saved? I think of Karnak and Mahenjadero and Borobudor and Angkor Wat... perhaps they can only be abandoned. It is not up to us to redeem ourselves - nature will redeem it. If there is any nature left. Let us hope so.