by Baloney Bill
I love rain as it was: gentle rain, an occasional storm; seems now it just rains buckets.
Still, I Love the Rain
Picnics are ruined and ballgames canceled.
Still, I love the rain --
the splash and hiss of tires on wet pavement;
the earthy smell of wet and growing things;
yellow-slickered children splashing through puddles;
raindrops gathering on my windowpane
joining one to another to make their
lazy, haphazard way down.
I love the rumble of thunder and the flash and
awesome etching of lightning across the sky.
I love sitting indoors, warm and dry, and
I love venturing outdoors and getting wet:
dashing from here to there trying to outrun
the shower; or walking for no good reason,
getting drenched and not caring; or the
serene feeling waiting for the bus under
the vacuum tube created by my umbrella.
I love long, soaking spring rains and refreshing
showers in the heat of summer and autumn
rains on falling and fallen leaves and the faint
scent of decay ushered in by the year's last rain
before winter brings the lovely snowflakes.