What is that sound on the other side of the kitchen window? Wonder of wonders, it's the first rain of the calendar year, and the tuneful sound of its descent is welcome beyond any words I can think up and type in here. I could kiss each and every glossy drop alighting on the veranda and anointing the glass.
Raindrops spatter the panes like confetti, and they lightly touch the tarnished wind chimes suspended from the roof and silent for most of the winter. They paint their own moist decoupage on the garden and the trees and the whole wide waking world.
Since the temperature is only a few degrees above freezing at present, I shall stand here in the kitchen with my camera and coffee and watch it all, rather than running out to lurch and sway and splosh about in the wet.