Writers and Rememberers

I was woken up in the middle of the night by the most violent rainstorm of my life. I tried to take a picture and it was one of the many moments where my camera simply will not suffice. I realized in the most exciting. “I never want to forget this” moments of my life, I reach for my camera. What if I didn’t have one; what if nobody did?

Sporadic lightning throughout the evening warned of the oncoming storm. It arrived around 3 am, blowing the pens on my desk onto the floor to wake me up. A crack in the distance, a cut through the sky, landing like logs all around me… like being on the inside of an ancient tree being felled. The rain was a steady curtain of pearls that glittered under my flash, but refused to be captured. It was bested only by the wind, which whipped the droplets into a nearly perpendicular frenzy and shot mist through the balcony and into the bedroom. I think if I was mad, or at least madly in love, I might go outside and frolic; to test the velocity of the rain with my skin; to remind myself how it feels to be helplessly soaked.

I think before cameras, people would have been forced to become better writers and rememberers.

4 thoughts on “Writers and Rememberers

  1. whether you were able to capture it well on camera or not, you’ve captured your feelings well enough for me to take that crazy moment. enjoying your travel journal. a lovely break kit kat break inbetween the advising frenzy.

  2. Pingback: On Slavery and Broken Promises | Arsalan

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