I like all kinds of rain. Because really, if you think about it… Drops of water falling. From. The. Sky. How cool is that?
But misting rain adds a special sense of adventure to the day. Just stepping out under the sky gives me the same feeling it must be to stand in the prow of a boat that’s headed to distant lands, with that fine spray of water across the face.
The world is muted and mysterious. I can’t shake the feeling that somewhere on the other side of that mist is something special and amazing that I’ve never seen before. If I could just walk through it long enough I’d find something other than the trees and cornfields and buildings that part of my mind knows are still just as present when hidden by mist.
Misting rain turns a prosaic day poetic, a phenomenon of which I am in favor.