It seems early to hear this before the craziness of Songkran sets in during the time of year that is supposed to be hottest, but I remember wet and stormy Songkrans from past Aprils. Bangkok storms look as though they were painted by El Greco--in this part of the world there could be as many words for lightning as Eskimos have for snow and Bedouins for wind. It comes in sheets, x-ray flashes, snakes, like Northern Lights in this hot climate--a good thunder storm is easily the best pyrotechnic show that I've ever seen.
And under the rain, which always falls just as I'm setting out to do something, the greenness of this city becomes piercingly bright as the dust washes away. Even covered with the fallout from city grit, our garden looks quite verdant, and the enhanced green that will come from the rain is difficult to imagine.
Even now, while the heat of the day continues into early evening and beyond, just before dawn the moisture and coolness from the trees outside my bedroom window makes me get up and turn off my fan. After months of concrete stuffiness, this is pure bliss and in the coolness before I fall back to sleep, I realize that at last I'm beginning to feel at home in Bangkok once again.