As the heavy raindrops splatter against the windowpane, I am reminded that Freetown is in the throes of its seasonal transformation. The change from the dry season to the rainy season is akin to the shift from summer to winter in other parts of the world, yet it comes with its unique nuances and beauty.

In the dry season, Freetown basks in relentless sunshine, with temperatures soaring to 30 degrees Celsius and beyond. The days are long, hot, and filled with the hum of air conditioning units struggling to keep up with the heat. But now, as the rainy season takes over, the mercury dips ever so slightly, settling around 25 degrees. This subtle drop might seem negligible to some, but here, it marks a significant shift.

The need for air conditioning diminishes, and for the first time in months, I find myself reaching for a jumper. It’s a cozy, unexpected change—one that brings a sense of comfort and familiarity. The cooler air invites a different kind of routine: evenings are now spent sipping hot chocolate, a ritual that feels both nostalgic and novel in this tropical setting.

The rain itself is a spectacle. It begins with a gentle drizzle, then crescendos into a torrential downpour, transforming the landscape in minutes. At it’s best the streets glisten, and the lush greenery seems to come alive, vibrant and refreshed. At it’s worst the streets flood and rubbish comes tumbling down the hillsides. There’s a rhythmic cadence to the rain, a soothing lullaby that accompanies my thoughts and activities.

At first, the rainy season felt like an intrusion, an abrupt disruption of the dry, sun-drenched days. But slowly, it has become my new normal. I’ve grown accustomed to the sound of rain on the roof, the frequent power outages, and the need to carry an umbrella wherever I go. The rhythm of my days has adjusted to accommodate this season’s quirks.

Morning hikes to waterfalls have taken on a new charm. The trails are muddier, the air is cooler, and the waterfalls themselves are more majestic, swollen with rainwater. There’s a certain joy in embracing the elements, in feeling the rain on my skin and the earth beneath my feet.

One of my newfound pleasures is running in the rain. There’s an unparalleled freedom in it, an exhilarating sense of release. As the rain drenches me, I can’t help but smile at the sheer ridiculousness of how wet I get. It’s a moment of pure, unfiltered happiness, where the world fades away, and it’s just me, perhaps a couple of stray beach dogs, the rain, and the rhythm of my footsteps.

This transition period has also brought a deeper sense of connection to Freetown and its people. Conversations now often turn to the weather, a familiar topic for a Brit like myself. I’ve learned to appreciate the slower pace, the moments of introspection that the rainy season fosters.

As I sit on my balcony, watching the rain dance across the skyline, I realise how much I’ve come to cherish this time. It’s a season of renewal and reflection, of finding beauty in the unexpected. Freetown, in the rain, feels like a place of endless possibilities.

Embracing the rainy season here has taught me to adapt, to find joy in the little things, and to appreciate the ever-changing rhythm of life. This is my new normal, and it feels just right.