There is something to be said for watching it rain.
When it comes down absent a breeze, it falls in straight lines.
When the falling rain hits a wood rail, the raindrops
pop up and out like staccato notes on a piano.
I watch as water droplets drip
from tree branches and leaves at a steady pace.
Rain meeting rooftop
composes a soothing, muffled patter
that harmonizes with the trickle of rainwater
from out the gutter spout.
I watch as rain drops speckle the window glass
and slip down one at a time to join other drops,
forming clear, fat drops that linger on the window sash
and then drop off
one
by
one
by
one
.
.
One would think they would all drop at once, but they don't.
Some hang suspended, waiting for the one drop
that will change the balance and impel their release.
Eventually, all the rain that doesn't evaporate
arrives on ground level to create standing water on garden paths
and walkways
and other low spots.
How peaceful it is to watch March rains
from the dry side of the window panes.
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