45 and Raining

I checked the weather report, as I constantly do, for the slight possibility of snow, but as always, no such luck. It will be 45 and raining until next Tuesday at least, which is simply not ideal. I can't take my much procrastinated roll of film for photography in this weather. I can't make a snowman in this weather. Most of all, I will not have a white Christmas with this weather. This is Seattle and there are times when I just loathe the fact that I rarely see a snowflake in the sky, but somehow, the rain is not too bad.

The rain is familiar. It's been 45 and rainy in December for as long as I can remember, and I won't deny that I like it. This is the rain that makes Christmas in Seattle so different from the picture perfect, frosted windowed houses in the Christmas movies. Although I would like nothing more than to experience a White Christmas like my dear friend Bing Crosby sings about, the rain will suffice.

The rain is, in its own way, picturesque. The rain that falls steadily and runs down the windows during Christmas dinner is beautiful. And there is no better sound that can be made than that of rain beating against the roof. It's strange that these little drops of water can mean so much, but to me, they do. The rain has never let me down and it is always quite considerate. It holds off for the Christmas caroling on Christmas Eve and the evenings out to the Nutcracker and that is all I ask of it.

So even though the Christmas will be far from white, I don't mind. It feels like it's rained on Christmas for the past hundred years, so there's no reason that it should stop now. So, please let the rain fall and let us in Seattle accept it not with a wicked glare, but with a smile of appreciation for all that it means.