IT'S RAINING

It's raining, in fact it never seems to stop raining. It's that very fine steady drizzle that, for some reason, is wetter than other types of rain.

It's a quiet rain, I cannot hear it above rains other noises, the swishing of car windowscreen wipers, the dripping from the trees, the constant gurgle of the downspout, the splashing of children in the puddlles.

It makes the roofs and road glisten as if they have been polished.

A solitary dog-walker passes, his head bent against the rain, on his daily mission. The Postman is coming up the garden path, he is dressed for the rain, for he knows that whilst on his "walk" it will
never stop raining.

Kids coming home from school, most of them drenched, for no kid
looks cool with a school blazer on.

At least I'm dry, sat looking out of the window.