Sit at the open balcony door breathing in the rain-filtered cool air and eat a late breakfast. Outside there is the steady rushing sound of all the more distant drops of water falling whilst the closer ones provide a steady drumming with their percussive striking of any available surface. The sound is relaxing, the taste of the air refreshing.
Between the overhanging roof of the building and the wooden board rail of the balcony the valley slope is visible, covered in deep green trees exuding water vapour in clouds as the steady downpour proceeds. The colours of the roofs, all red and brown tiles, shine beneath a glistening coat of water. The other surfaces, the vertical ones, are white, grey and brown, all kinds of plasterwork protecting the houses from the damp issuing from the air. The sky is a light even grey today, a bright diffusor of cloud leaving all the shadows soft edged and almost non existent.
This is a beautiful experience, there is no need to leave the shelter of the building to experience the soaking wet of the falling water at first hand.
The prospect of having to leave this building for good is shattering.
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