Blame my Irish ancestors, but rain makes me happy. That soft pattering of water slapping the pavement, the roof, the leaves of the drooping mint makes me stop whatever I'm doing, run to the nearest window, and gaze outside with the open mouthed look of a dog at a bar-b-que. Sure it's a pain to walk across the street to pay the electric bill. Yes it's frustrating to drive across town to get a chiropractic adjustment. You get wet. Your umbrella is never wide enough and even if it is, the moment you get in the car and try to close it you realize you might just as well have left it in the house.
Then again, you get compliments on your wellies. You realize just how convenient it is to have really short hair. You come home to a house that is a bit brooding, so full of creative energy it may just burst leaving you and your cat without a roof and an intimate knowledge of just how wet a rain storm can be.
Yes I love the rain. It makes me happy. I get depressed when there's too much sun. The distant rumble of thunder, the swish of tires on passing traffic, the hushed whisper of rain drop, brick courtyard, and potted mint.
Good day sunshine? I say let it rain.
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