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.

Rain, I don't mind

I like bright, warm, sunny days as much as the next guy. I especially like them on vacation, just like, I suppose, the next guy. But I don't mind a little rain either. Even when I'm in Hessel in Michigan's glorious Upper Peninsula. In fact I like one day of rain when I'm here.

I like the soft drumming of the rain on the tin roof of the garage. I like sitting on the front porch with a hot coffee as the gentle, cool breeze wafts the fresh smell of the rain across it. I like watching the drops of water hit the the water of the lake in front of me.

Mind you, it can get to be too much. A couple years ago my son and I stood in the aforementioned garage one July afternoon and could hardly hear each other talk during a torrential downpour. Drops of water were pounding that tin roof so hard that talking was more shouting, and we were within arms length of one another.

But as to typical, run of the mill showers, a soft drumbeat on tin is soothing. And rain, as Paul McCartney explained talking about the Beatles' song Rain, is a good thing. Why not praise it?

So I'm watching the local weather radar today to see when the rain forecasted is to arrive. I want to be right here in Hessel when it does.