I started reading Wuthering Heights today, and i really enjoyed it since the name Wuthering Heights describes the "atmospheric tumult to which its station is exposed in stormy weather", which reflects the mood and atmosphere of the weather today.

I can just imagine the senses evoke right before a storm, you can smell and taste the air rapidly changing, as dropplets of water fall darkening and creating little indentions in the sand. Like the aroma of of rain and dirt arising, so too do my childhood memories of being in vietnam, playing in the rain while sipping orange juice from a straw inserted in our native bright green oranges. After we had tired of playing in the rain, we would sit outside in our hand made wooden benches, leaning agianst the clay house wall, and sheltered from the rain by the little awning created by our straw roof. With each rainstorm, thunder and lightning, echoing and releasing the ever lingering spirit of war's past. So unfair what war has done! Aunts and cousins losts, starved, sick, death, no burial, left to decay, thier spirits still ever lingering, ever suffering.

Ah, the feeling of rain at that time can never be recreated nor experienced physically, but i still remember ever detail, every emotion. That has always, and will always be my memory that is evoked on rainy, tumultious days.

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