On Monday night, Perth got a bit wet. Actually, we had what could be the nastiest storm that the city has experienced in twenty years. After days of muggy summer heat, smothered by gray clouds and drowning in heavy, humid air, the clouds were split apart with lightning.

With my son and daughter snuggled against me, we peered from the warmth and safety of my bedroom window into the street outside. Wind thrashed the trees. The blur of rain softened the edges of the fences across the street. Waterfalls trickled from overflowing hanging pots.

As we watched, the sky turned an emerald green like the city of Oz. The greyness disappeared beneath a filter of emeralds and the rain glittered like splintering crystal as it shattered against every surface. Spikes of lightening sparked white into the green for blinding seconds before washing away in the rain. Our chests echoed with each pounding crack and rumble of thunder.

The cool air breezed through doors, windows, and roof-tiles. Raindrops chased the gusts only to be dashed against the windows, splattered into rivulets against the glass. The air smelled of earth and new grass. Dust from a long, hot summer settled leaving a fresh clean scent as if the world had been reborn.

When was the last time you watched a storm? Have you ever walked through the rain?

What did it feel like on your skin? Did is caress your arms with sun-warmed drops or did you shiver with chill as it tricked down your collar, your neck, and back? Did your feet squelch in wet shoes and socks? Did the rain flick off your rain jacket, the mud puddles sludgy around the ankles of your rain boots?

What did it taste like on your lips? Was it cool and refreshing? Did it taste like new spring, warming after a long cold winter? Did it have the coppery burn of a hot, dry summer, sooty ash after bush fires, an acrid tang from city smog?

What did it sound like as it beat upon the pavement or splashed in puddles beneath your feet? Could you hear it pinging from tin rooftops? Did it ebb and flow like ocean waves? Was it accompanied by rumbling thunder and howling winds?

What did it look like as it sheeted down, twisting everything around you into a blurry haze? Did it cast a strange green tint against the late afternoon sky? Was the world snuggled into the muted pale ghosts of overcast skies? Did objects seem to move and shift as if they were trying to dart between raindrops to stay dry?

What did it smell like as you inhaled the changing air? Could you smell the earthiness of freshly wet dirt, the damp of a wet dog, or the fresh, crisp, newness of soaked grasses? Could you smell a sense of clean washing into the world as dust and grime rinsed down the drains?

Have you ever experienced a moment with every sense of your body? Take a moment now to tune into your surroundings. Hear, Taste, Touch, See, Smell. Absorb every sight, sound, texture, tang, and scent.

The best way to bring a reader into your story is with rich, sensory description. Our memories are triggered by our senses and invoking sensory descriptions in your writing creates new memories and brings forth old memories in your reader.

Sensory description has a lot to do with the adage, “Show, don’t tell.” When you show your reader, you use language that describes. Telling conveys simple facts. The sentence, “It was raining.”, tells a reader that drops of water fell from the sky. But HOW do the drops fall? Without careful details that connect to the five senses, the reader cannot be in the rain with your characters.

Want to practice right now? Share in the comments any scene from the last twenty-four hours of your life. Connect with all of your senses as you remember. How did it feel, taste, smell, look, and sound?

Photo Credit: © March 22, 2010 Mateusz Nowacki