Saturday, February 05, 2005
wet season colours
…”43 millimetres of rain fell in the three hours to 3pm today at Darwin airport”, the TV weatherman reports.
It’s just another cool and beautiful wet season day in the tropics. They say the temperature reached 30 degrees Celsius with a relative humidity of 90 per cent. I guess that humidity was the rain that bucketed down all night and all day.
Some days the quality of the light is similar to what you’d see if you opened your eyes underwater and looked towards a distant surface; a greenish, diffused, soft, pearlescent glow that lights everything equally –though not well.
Wet season colours are subtle and monotonous. The many shades of grey of the skies, from mist to purple; the muddy ochre grey of the sea where storm-tossed waves wear caps of dark gold foam and the horizon glows pale blue-green like mother’s milk.
Grass, trees, lush fleshy tropical vines and shrubs glow in all the hues and shades of green from viridian to leaf – fluorescent against the unrelieved grey.
The early wet storms have eased now, where the darkness of night is rent over and over by jagged lightning bolts, white and blue and pink, and sheet lightning of purest silver lights the whole sky like daylight – the time when buildings shake from the ferocity of the thunder. Now that force and passion have dissipated like an old love affair into a gentle, persistent, pastel downpour.
It’s just another cool and beautiful wet season day in the tropics. They say the temperature reached 30 degrees Celsius with a relative humidity of 90 per cent. I guess that humidity was the rain that bucketed down all night and all day.
Some days the quality of the light is similar to what you’d see if you opened your eyes underwater and looked towards a distant surface; a greenish, diffused, soft, pearlescent glow that lights everything equally –though not well.
Wet season colours are subtle and monotonous. The many shades of grey of the skies, from mist to purple; the muddy ochre grey of the sea where storm-tossed waves wear caps of dark gold foam and the horizon glows pale blue-green like mother’s milk.
Grass, trees, lush fleshy tropical vines and shrubs glow in all the hues and shades of green from viridian to leaf – fluorescent against the unrelieved grey.
The early wet storms have eased now, where the darkness of night is rent over and over by jagged lightning bolts, white and blue and pink, and sheet lightning of purest silver lights the whole sky like daylight – the time when buildings shake from the ferocity of the thunder. Now that force and passion have dissipated like an old love affair into a gentle, persistent, pastel downpour.
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