Damp, warm and cozy: Why I love rainy weather so much

In recent years, even the capital has become increasingly hot and dry . We Berliners have learned to adapt: We water the trees in front of our houses on tropically hot days, we keep the shutters down during the day, and those who can take a siesta at midday. Ice cream parlors are springing up like mushrooms, and beaches and outdoor pools are busy.

Climate change, with its consequences of heavy rain, drought, and heat, has also led the Berlin House of Representatives to the realization that rainwater should no longer be diverted from areas as quickly as possible and disposed of like wastewater, as has been the case in the past, but should be used as a resource as efficiently as possible. The Senate, the Waterworks, and the Rainwater Agency, founded in the hot summer of 2018, are leading Berlin on the path to becoming a " sponge city ."

As for me, I've learned to love rain. Especially summer rain: when thunder rolls in the distance on a hot afternoon, birds fly low hunting for insects, and a very special scent spreads across the warm asphalt with the first drops. This scent even has a name: petrichor. It's been called that since 1965, when two Australian researchers first described the phenomenon in the journal Nature - the word is a combination of the ancient Greek pétros (stone) and ichór (blood of the gods). I love this smell - and I'm not the only one: petrichor seems to make almost everyone happy . Because it reminds us of summer holidays, warm days and idleness?

Two main ingredients determine the smell of summer rain: One is an oil that plants secrete when it's dry. In dry conditions, this oil is absorbed by dust particles . When raindrops hit soil, stone, or asphalt, small bubbles form on the surface . The bubbles rise and burst, releasing aromatic aerosols. An odor.

The other main ingredient is an organic compound called geosmin. This is produced by microbes, including bacteria of the genus Streptomyces : they release it particularly when they die. This attracts tiny arthropods, springtails, which live primarily in humus layers and leaf litter. They can detect geosmin with their antennae and eat the bacteria. Before they die, the bacteria produce spores to multiply themselves, which are then spread by the springtails. The scent of rain tells the springtails: "Come to me, it's great here. It's humid, warm and cozy." This is how fragrance expert Sissel Tolaas described it in the Berliner Zeitung.

Petrichor shows us humans that there is life everywhere in Berlin, even in the pavement – and that what we smell is nothing other than the cycle of life and death, eating and being eaten.

By the way, science even has a term for people who take particular pleasure in seeing, smelling, or feeling rain on their skin. It's "pluviophile," derived from the Latin pluvia (rain) and the Greek philos (loving). According to an international study published in the journal "PNAS," the gentle, monotonous sound of rain has a relaxing effect on the psyche and improves concentration.

And the divine scent of petrichor makes us happy. Why is that? There are various theories: Some believe that geosmin acts like an antidepressant , while others are certain that it's the negatively charged ions that fall from the sky with the drops. Or perhaps—as in my case—it's simply the pure joy one feels with the thirsty plants.

By the way, the increased humidity before the onset of rain is enough to produce petrichor—so we can actually smell that it's about to rain. At least in summer.