The gentle claps of thunder, the flashes of lightning and finally she

For weeks the city had been suffocating under stifling heat that clung to the skin. The air felt like a hot breath, almost animal-like. At 36 degrees, Milan resembled soft tarmac, and the trees and even the leaves—just beginning to turn yellow—stood motionless. I was waiting for it. I had been monitoring the weather forecasts for days: no wind, 35 degrees, and humidity reminiscent of Cambodia. Then, on Wednesday 9 September, a cloud icon with a small flash of lightning appeared in the forecast. I gasped: there it is, it’s coming.

A major weather system was advancing from France, they assured us. Exhausted by the sweltering heat, I nevertheless waited patiently.

Tuesday evening, the air was still and heavy. The branches of the walnut trees on my street stood motionless. At eleven o’clock, there was no news from the west. Not a breath of wind from France.

I fell asleep with the air conditioner set to ‘dry’, so that it would suck up the damp and the mosquitoes (mosquitoes, in the Amazonian climate, are particularly rambunctious).

At 5:00 a.m., however, something roused me. The cause was rain—the imperious yet gentle patter of heavy precipitation. Flashes of lightning illuminated the room, accompanied by thunder that was not furious, more the gentle rumblings of a storm from days gone by. The cats at the foot of the bed remained alert but calm. The sky continued to flash, thunder, and pour heavily, yet without anger. Meanwhile, a pleasant aroma spread through the air—the fragrance of warm earth when, after such a long time, it is finally drenched. I took a deep breath, as one might inhale a perfume. Then, on the balcony, I held out a hand to feel the raindrops on my skin. That patter of rain, however, lulled me back to sleep, and I drifted off once more.

At six o’clock, a grey dawn. The thermometer, truly, was ten degrees below. Is this merciless summer over? Never has the Sardinian sea been so warm, never have the rocks beneath my feet been so scorching, nor the scrubland inland so dry: a single spark in that scorching heat would have devoured everything in an instant. On certain days, that sun high in the sky almost frightened me.

And tonight, tonight at last. The flashes of lightning, the rumble of thunder, and the rain, pouring down. That’s when I realised: water is a mother. It nourishes all living things.