Call me a sap, but I love rain. I feel like cheering when the weather reporter forecasts precipitation. Just the sound of it on the roof, brings my family members out back to listen to the glorious patter on the porch overhang as if the hush of moisture from the sky were a gong, calling us together.

I’m not crazy about driving in damp weather, but one of the joys in having a fast convertible is that unless the rain is pouring–if  you drive fast enough–it just goes right over an open car, not reaching the driver.I particularly love watching the rain on the canal out back, which is home to a number of water fowl, as well as hidden turtles and lots of fish. The ducks and geese don’t run for cover when rain starts falling. They just sail on, seeming very much in their element. Sometimes, I sit in a chair and watch it when weather sets in, ignoring rumbles of thunder and lightening illuminating the cloudy skies. Part of the fascination may be that I live in the sunny South and rain isn’t common. My husband tells me I should live in Seattle where they get a lot more wet stuff falling from the sky.My lovey’s previous girlfriend once told me that she thought rain was romantic. Even that didn’t kill it for me.

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