NATURE PHOTOGRAPHY

When a Million Raindrops Are Sparkling Like the Stars

And transform a gray and wet landscape into a shining dance floor

It is now day three since it started raining. It never stopped. Fully. The rain got less or stronger. Sometimes I thought it stopped but when I went outside I saw the small drops falling from the sky.

It is the summer of the extremes. For the second time in a row, we’re experiencing a long weather front providing endless rain and floods. Right after weeks of extreme heat. And drought. Here, in Germany.

There are no more moderate temperatures. We barely had a day in the 20s. It was either brutally hot with temperatures rising above the 30s or it was chilly and wet around 15 degrees (Celsius).

Yes, our weather patterns are getting more extreme, there is no doubt about it. And all I can do right now is adapt to it.

Here I went out today. As it was pouring rain, I pulled the hood of my rain jacket deep over my face, put on the waterproof hiking boots and ventured out.

“I’d rather be hiking in the rain, than sitting inside at a desk on a sunny day.” — Unknown

Water was running down the dirt road. A milky soup had been created. A mixture of acid rain and sandy soil. It wasn’t raining hard. It was a gentle rain. The kind of rain the land needs as this type of rain slowly gets soaked up by the soil. Just that this exact rain had been coming down for over 48 hours already.

With the hood deep in my face, my eyes were looking at the ground ahead of me. All I could see and hear were drops of water. Raindrops everywhere.

“Let your smile be an umbrella on a rainy day.” — Lawrence Welk

I stopped now and then to capture the magic of these perfectly round drops of water clinging onto razor-sharp blades of grass.

Nature, at its finest.

I left the forest behind and crossed a wide meadow. A big variety of wildflowers is blooming here. When it’s not raining. Now, all I could see were raindrops. Everywhere.

“May the flowers remind us why the rain is so necessary.” — Zan Oku

When I stopped for a moment I heard the rain dropping onto the hood of my jacket. The only sound in fact I did notice. When the moving of my shoes disappeared there was just that.

The dropping sound of water.

Somewhat soothing. Somewhat meditative. Somewhat inspirational.

If I could just sit down on a bench, pull out a pen and paper and write. Write down my thoughts while listening to the continuous sound of raindrops falling.

But then again. It’s raining. The writing would have been swept away and the piece of paper would have dissolved in no time.

I look at the bench, lick two raindrops with my tongue off my nose and move on.

This old Linden tree alley is what made me turn this way. I love the old trees. The power that goes out from such giants. They outlived wars, droughts and floods and other catastrophic events.

“Happiness is the smell of a linden tree on a summer evening” — Unknown

The drizzle is getting stronger. The clouds are hanging only meters above the ground and the air is saturated with water. I cross the meadow in hopes of finding protection from the miserable wetness inside the forest.

While I don’t get so much water from above, every time I sweep past bushes, a waterfall gets transferred onto my legs and I wonder how long it will take until water enters my boots. From above.

The constant running of water has created its own river. Down the hiking trail in the forest. Pushing foliage out of the way, the water seeks the path of the least resistance.

The force of moving water is one of the strongest powers in nature cutting through rocks and shaping valleys for eternity.

“Dripping water hollows out stone, not through force but through persistence.” — Ovid

A huge puddle lies ahead of me. No place for the water to run down and so it just got collected. More water is dropping onto the tiny wet pond creating air bubbles. Air bubbles which are dancing across the surface of the water.

When life gives you a rainy day, play in the puddles.

I’m getting tired and a little soaked on the legs as I don’t have rain pants on and my raincoat barely reaches the knees. Taking the trail leading back out of the forest onto the wide meadow a wall of fog is limiting my vision.

But down on the floor ahead of me, a million raindrops are sparkling in the weak light. Hanging onto every blade of grass, seed or flower head, they dance in the rain.

Bluebells are dangling on the meadow sparkling in raindrops.

Someone’s misery is someone else’s happiness.

Remember that.

“The sound of raindrops falling is nature’s lullaby, soothing and calming our restless minds.”

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