The days of endless rain

More water anyone?

Hi lovely reader 👋

First of all, if you're new here, my name is Sophie. I’m on a journey to slow down, reconnect with nature, and live more intentionally. After moving off-grid, I’m sharing lessons on rewilding, simplicity, and finding balance in a busy world, without any of the fluff.

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Remember that time when I wrote about almost running out of water? It’s not that long ago, only four months. I still remember the drought. The dry air, the earth crackling and breaking open underneath my feet, the plants starving for rain, the cicadas buzzing relentlessly. The sound of summer. I remember measuring our levels in the watertanks several times a day, obsessively. As if measuring would make a difference, would make them dry up slower. I knew exactly how much water a shower used, doing the dishes, doing the laundry. Everything was a conscious decision.

It seems so long ago now.

Now, it rains.

It only rains. My life is rain. Water falling from the sky, every day, every hour, every minute. Sometimes it pours and roars, sometimes it softly taps and drips.

But always, rain.

Sometimes the sun fools me. She appears from behind a cloud, shows us what life could be like. Dries up the forest just enough for me to think that this should definitely be the end of the rain. Blue skies appear and make way for a new chapter. Sometimes she stays for an entire morning. But then, the vanishing act, she goes away again. She disappears.

The sound of the rain on the roof is deafening. Nothing else can be heard but the drops on the corrugated iron roofing. It’s somehow liberating, the kind of sound that empties your head of anything else. No room for anything, just the sound of rain.

The forest is soaked, almost drowning. The birds are absent, too, no birdsong, they are all quietly hiding away. I imagine the birds gathering together on their branches, trying to keep warm and dry. The ground is a sponge, only made up of big puddles. Every step I take, my socks get wetter and I consider that maybe I should be wearing gumboots, and not my sheep-shaped fake crocs. But I like my sheep-shaped fake crocs, they put a smile on my face every time I wear them and they invite strange, slightly confused looks from visitors.

You should know that our setup consists of two separate buildings and an outdoor toilet. This matters to this story, because whenever I want to go to the bathroom or get something from the kitchen, it’s a gamble. It’s a trip through the rain. The path to the kitchen is non-existent, just earth, dirt, mushy and soft. I step in puddles everywhere I go. Sheep-shaped crocs, not a good idea. Sometimes I slip because it’s dark and I can barely see. Outdoor lights? No, because we like the darkness of the night, we like to see the stars and the stillness of the forest. Sometimes though, I’d also like to see where I walk.

There is so much rain.

We have so much water in our tanks now, they are overflowing. There is abundance. If water was money, I’d be swimming in dollars. I can take long showers without worrying about anything. I could take a shower twice a day if I wanted to. The luxury. I wash dishes without worrying, I wash them twice, because I can. Croky, our pet parrot, can take the longest showers. He loves dancing around in the flowing water. Fifteen minutes, twenty, half an hour - we don’t care. He wastes water, he screeches with joy, he yells “ooh” and “aah” and he is happy and we tell him what a pretty boy he is.

But there’s a cost. Laundry, there’s a different story. See, the sun gives us light and the light gives us power. There’s this thing you need when you live off the grid, electricity. When you live off solar power, the sun is your best friend. And the sun, she hasn’t been a very good friend lately. She’s not showing up much, she’s hiding behind the clouds, some days she doesn’t even show her face at all. So our solar batteries are struggling.

I have spoken about this before: we have a very small solar power setup. We have six panels that, together, can generate 1600W in ideal circumstances. However, circumstances are not ideal right now. Our batteries have the equivalent of 10 kWh of which we can only use 50% to increase the lifespan of the batteries (they are lead-acid batteries). Currently, our panels bring in about 0.2 kWh per day; for reference, the WiFi uses up roughly 0.17 kWh. We have enough energy to keep some lights on, the fridge running, and occasionally use WiFi.

(sidenote: I don’t understand electricity at all. Just to write those few sentences I was given a 2-hour electricity lecture by my husband on Watt, Volt and Amp and other electricity-words I don’t understand. There were drawings involved and I had to ask ChatGPT to translate what my husband was saying. I tried explaining that the minute I turn away from this conversation my brain will delete all the information, but he insisted. I can confirm now that, about an hour later, I no longer remember what anything he told me means, but he confirms the above is correct.)

With these dark overcast days, choices have to be made every day. Of course, we have a back-up generator and it’s been working hard. But we do want to be a little bit mindful of not using it too often. When we want to do the laundry, we have no other choice - clean clothes are important. But other things, like using a toaster, a blender, a coffee machine or ironing my clothes? Those are all things that can wait. Winter-me is wearing wrinkly clothes and eating non-toasted sandwiches. That’s just how life is right now. Summer-me can wear nice shirts and eat all the toast she wants. Life is lived in seasons.

Previous winter was cold. It was the winter when our heater broke down and we experienced real cold for the first time ever. This winter is wet. It’s the winter the heavens broke down. I wonder what next winter will bring.

All of this, of course, is part of life in nature, life off the grid.

“Are you doing this willingly?” someone at work asked when I was talking to a colleague about our struggles with power and energy.

“Yes, this is fully a choice,” I proclaimed proudly. We all laughed.

Life is made up of seasons, some seasons are full of life, some are cold, some are wet. They are all important, they all teach us something and all of them will pass. This rain will pass. And soon, we’ll be begging for water again. We’ll be trying to read the clouds again, trying to see whether rain will finally fall. We’ll be hot and humid and enjoying summer. But this is the season of rain, of wetness and of waiting for the sun.

I guess we’re always waiting for something - for this moment to change into a different one, for this moment to pass so the next one can be better. And I don’t want to do that this winter. I want to appreciate the moment in front of me. Appreciate this rain. Take the long showers, do all the dishes, allow Croky his half-hour showers. Appreciate what’s right in front of me, instead of thinking how a bit of sun would make everything better.

Something that inspired me this week

I came across this video on YouTube, where two guys try and incorporate all the latest health and fitness trends into their lives. And they mean ALL of them: cold plunges, reading every day, drinking enough water, eating gluten-free, dairy-free, paleo, no screen time, and so on. It’s so interesting to see how all of these actions which are seen as being healthy become such a drain on them and how incredibly unrealistic it is to do every single thing.

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