Rain

I love rain. Not the five-minute rain bursts of Michigan, nor the two-month obliterating rains of California, but the lingering and fabulously wet rains of Oregon. I would never complain about the sun, but ultimately, I enjoy the sun insofar as I enjoy the shade, and to enjoy something only to the extent that you can hide from it is an odd pleasure, indeed. Rain, however, should not and cannot be avoided. It is a delight to every sense of the body, and turns small daily happinesses into great ones. I intend my next purchase to be a full-length umbrella; not to keep dry, but to hear the drops of water as they strike the cloth.


Rain

A timpani patter upon the tin roof
announces the fall of the sky,
and everyone here seems to be so aloof,
though none of us shall remain dry.
We cannot escape, and to tell you the truth,
I never intended to try.