Raindrops on Rooftops

Six hours ago I was in Hessel in Michigan's glorious Upper Peninsula. I was there nine days, the longest I've stayed in at least ten years. That was too much of a drought. I'm going to stay one nine or ten day block again next year if it is at all possible.

The weather was gorgeous the entire time. It was sunny every day with only occasional clouds, and those never enough to even barely threaten old Sol. So I shouldn't complain. But I will. Mildly.

I always liked to have one rainy day up north for no other reason than the garage roof is tin, and I like to sit and hear the rain on it. Yet it did not rain a drop, until right around two o'clock this morning when I had finished packing the new old van for my return trip. Then it began raining lightly. What a tease.

Tease, hell. I was leaving so early because I have an 11 AM doctor's appointment, while it's about a four hour and forty five minute trip home; time was no real issue. I unlocked the garage, turned on the lights, and sat in a chair for a few minutes to hear the rain on the roof. I was gone by 2:15 and home just ahead of 8, and that only due to construction.

I'm glad I took the extra few minutes. It's the little things, right? Stop and smell the roses, figuratively speaking, at least sometimes.