I walk out into the dark, wind and rain, not wanting to. When I am out there, and in it, I try to find some joy in the experience. Well, perhaps joy is too strong a word, let’s say benefit or beauty. The air is good. I like the feeling of its coolness against my face. I’ve used an umbrella these last few mornings, inconvenient though it is and I do enjoy hearing the sound of the rain on its taut surface (though when it blows inside out as it did several times today, I forget the pleasure of the pitter-pat). It is just weather, after all, and so many countries are, by comparions, parched dry. So I must celebrate the rain. It is a life-giver and the bringer of green.
