Winter rain

The winter rain has settled over Melbourne with stubborn persistence, and I feel it the moment I step outside. It’s the kind of rain that doesn’t arrive with drama but lingers, quiet, steady, and unrelenting. Each morning feels like a repeat of the last: low grey skies, damp air, and footpaths that never quite dry. I’ve even had to dig out the scarves again, wrapping one snugly around my neck before heading out. It’s a small thing, but it makes a difference, keeping that sharp Melbourne chill from cutting straight through me. Still, the cold finds its way in, creeping past the layers.

There’s a heaviness to the days, as if the clouds are pressing down, muting everything just a little. The steady patter on the roof and the hiss of tyres on wet roads become the soundtrack of winter, creating a quiet yet persistent background noise that seems to echo the season’s subdued mood. And yet, there’s something familiar about it. I settle into a quiet evening, writing, then lying in bed to hear the water on the roof as it runs down the gutters. Though it’s cold outside, I find it reassuring that the Melbourne weather is just what I expect for this time of year, adding a comforting consistency to the changing world.