“When the rain came it came first as the scent of rain, the grey air stained darker behind the hills. Then when it came down to us it was like thread and needles, piercing the jellyish water with a trillion tiny pricks, the silver threads attaching water to sky. And there too was the sound of rain, drumming gently upon the canvas cover where it was stretched taut at the back of the boat. It was so warm.”
In this quote from Kirsty Gunn, she vividly describes the experience of rain falling on the environment around her. The use of sensory details such as scent, sight, and sound helps bring the scene to life for the reader. The rain is depicted as both delicate and powerful, with the imagery of "thread and needles" and "trillion tiny pricks" creating a sense of intricacy and intensity. Additionally, the description of the rain drumming gently on the canvas cover adds a layer of auditory imagery to the scene. Overall, Gunn's writing evokes a strong sense of atmosphere and emotion in her depiction of the rainstorm.
In Kirsty Gunn's vivid description of rain, she captures the sensory experience of a natural phenomenon that is both powerful and serene. This passage not only highlights the beauty of rain but also its impact on our surroundings and our senses. Today, as we continue to witness the effects of climate change and unpredictable weather patterns, Gunn's words serve as a reminder of the importance of appreciating and respecting the natural world. The way she portrays rain as both a gentle and forceful presence is a reflection of the complexity and beauty of nature itself.
In this excerpt from Kirsty Gunn's writing, the rain is described in vivid detail, appealing to all senses. The reader can almost feel the raindrops on their skin and hear the drumming on the canvas cover, creating a truly immersive experience.
As we reflect on this beautiful description of rain by Kirsty Gunn, let's ponder on the following questions:
“That minute, that tiny second when you hit the water flat on, you lose your breath. All the air flattens out of you - like going flat out on concrete. Then the next second you're sliding through, sliding and sinking slowly to the bottom of the pool. You touch the bottom, you bounce once there gently like an astronaut. And you feel the bottom of the pool against the soles of your feet and that's queer-but not queer, because you're the same person, aren't you? Just in another place that's all, you've still got the same body there. You look around, in that blue time, in that deep place. You look around with the same eyes, at the milky chlorine blue, and you have so much time there. Deep in the water with your same body, but everything's different, everything's better.”
“No one would ever find her here. Even from the high saddle there was no sign of the way she'd come, no path, no road, only the bent backs of the hills repeating themselves, over and over, on one side of the road all the way to the western mountains, on the other to the sea.”
“She holds within her the memory of this journey, drawn out for her like a constellation in the darkness, each element of the landscape connecting her along a line that is her past. Carter may want to come here now, but she's the one who belongs, on this road, under this piece of sky.”
“Only let the darkness inside her that she fears also be the darkness of infinite gentleness, the mouth for killing the same mouth that carries the babies safely away.”
“Could have been, mind you. And that's one big mother of a conditional. Because who's to say she wanted me in the same way? After all, she left me, didn't she? Maybe I didn't try too hard to get her to stay but what words are there for begging? Please? Don't go, honey? They're crippled halfwits, those sentences, and besides, who uses a lot of words in a friendship anyway? You run out of things to say pretty early on, that's my experience. Sure, you start off thick enough, so many words you could gag on them. The facts, and the sentences - and the sticky tears. Out it comes, out it all comes, the fat story of your life but before you know it you've talked your guts out and there's nothing left to say. You go to her, to confide, and choke up air.”
“And the ship went out into the High Sea and passed into the West, until at last on a night of rain Frodo smelled a sweet fragrance on the air and heard the sound of singing that came over the water. And then it seemed to him that as in his dream in the house of Bombadil, the grey rain-curtain turned all to silver glass and was rolled back, and he beheld white shores and beyond them a far green country under a swift sunrise.”