“Some people walk in the rain, others just get wet.” – Roger Miller
It’s raining again in London. I’m lying on the couch, listening as the rain rat-tat-tats outside my window. The rain in England constantly surprises me. I expect it to be insistent and hard, matching the continually grey skies. I do not expect the rain to be indecisive, falling half-heartedly and intermitedly. Fading in and out as though indifferent to its purpose.
I am a child of the California rain. In the land of movie stars, the rain is transient and soft like cotton candy – a delicious treat that melts away in an instant. My love affair with the rain began in California.