“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.
