Confession: I am a sunshine lover, but oh, the nice rich rain!
All day it has fallen; and if it nourishes even me, how must the grass feel?
It rained and it rained and it rained. Piglet told himself that never in all his life, and he was goodness knows how old–three, was it, or four?–never had he seen so much rain.
A. A. Milne, from Chapter IX: In which Piglet is Entirely Surrounded by Water
Little Brother’s Secret
When my birthday was coming
Little Brother had a secret.
He kept it for days and days
And just hummed a little tune when I asked him.
But one night it rained.
And I woke up and heard him crying;
Then he told me.
“I planted two lumps of sugar in your garden
Because you love it so frightfully.
I thought there would be a whole sugar tree for your birthday.
And now it will be all melted.”
Oh, the darling!
Rain in town is a joy all its own
All the umbrellas
Making comrades from strangers
Suited up, slick and shining
Lights in the windows are home and hearth
But I am out and about.
Rain in the country is another joy
A lush moist pattering
The full creek rushing, nothing else to be heard
Soft air lighted, grey and green, misting
I hear the grass growing, the warm earth drinking.
Richness luxury fertility.