I love spring rain. I'm sitting here knowing I should go to bed and sleep, but I want to hear the rain start falling. I love that sound. I really wish we had a tin roof sometimes, like the one on the farm. I have great sense memories of that sound, associated with looking across the farmyard at the line of locust trees just on the other side of the pasture fence while a curtain of rain cascades over the porch roof. Or the time a friend and I went out into the street and danced in the rain, got soaking wet, and loved every minute of it.
Keeps on rainin', look how it's rainin'...
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