Il pleure dans mon coeurPaul Verlaine; Il pleure dans mon coeur
Comme il pleut sur la ville,
Quelle est cette langueur
Qui pénètre mon coeur?
It rained in the night, so we avoided a rush of people out of doors to see what all the water-falling-out-of-sky commotion was. Doubtless there were still a few casualties among shift-workers and insomniacs, and news will filter through as the day goes on.
It's still raining now. Already the novelty has worn off. I am after all a Scotsman. A resigned approach to rain is hard-wired.
Bring it on.
Image from Jim McBride at his ThinkBottle blog.