Rain on a Zinc Roof

Last night as I lay down trying to fall asleep, the rain began to pour. It’s been raining quite a bit in NY these past couple days and I remarked to my brother that it was perfect sleeping weather. He agreed but then we realised that it wasn’t quite the same because there was no zinc roof. We realised that nothing compares to wrapping up in a sheet and drifting off to sleep as the rain pours down to meet the zinc roof. Even if you don’t have a zinc roof, you’ll hear the rain beating on the neighbour’s roof, or the shed….I’d like to think that the sound echoes around the Rock.

The rain-soaked Earth smells different – and better – in Jamaica. I love to smell the coming rain.

Gosh man, I miss my yard.

I have a longing for home that keeps me on my toes. Many times I’m jus’ lackluster and downright lazy about things but thinking of my future back home and the timetable I have to return home perk me up again. And even though I may not have to deal directly with the shenanigans of our politicians or failing infrastructure or other ills facing us, I still want and will work for the best for Jamaica. Maybe not for me to enjoy, although I hope my generation will be able to reap some of the benefits of the work we now need to put in to right the ship, but definitely for my children.

Everything painful that happens in Jamaica or to Jamaicans pains me deeply, as if it happened to me. Jamaicans share a deep bond that will never break even though we can cuss each other and no matter how much we criticize or gwaan wid ginnalship. Deep down I think we just want the best for ourselves, families and countries. We have a lot of wok to do but like I’ve been saying, we must work together and against all negativitiy. It’s the only way.

I feel like Dorothy: There’s no place like home. There’s no place like home. There’s no place like home. There’s…

And nothing like a zinc roof.

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