Pomeroon Chip: Rain

7.17am. It's raining. I love that sound; the piti, piti, piti on the zinc roof. And the way the wind's lashing tongue forces a change of tune. Piti, pit, pit, pat, tup, tup, and then crashing downpour. Flang, a loose sheet of zinc lifts and falls. Leaves tumble in the air like acrobats with no sense of direction. A flock of scarlet ibis, fly against the palette of green in a rush for shelter. The river, rushes too. Downstream to the Atlantic. A Kiskadee sings 'look at me, look at me' and with a flash of its glorious yellow darts off into another tree. This is the Guyana I love.