There has been a third day of rain, and still I am not displeased. When I woke this afternoon, the light was so dim that even though my clock said 2:30, I was sure that it was almost dusk and that the power had been off for several hours. But I was mistaken. The clock was correct. The dimness was merely because the clouds were so thick that only a dusky light could penetrate their vaporous mass. Later, the day brightened a bit, the rain diminished for a while, the clouds dropped lower, and the swaying tops of the windblown trees were wreathed in drifting fog, becoming so vague that they seemed no more than shadows of trees, inexplicably cast upward onto a pearl-gray sky. Rain soon began falling again, and has remained quick and steady for hours. I do not expect to hear crickets tonight, nor is it likely that I will see the moon. No matter. The air is milder than it was last night, and I feel no discomfort at its touch, so, with windows thrown wide, I listen to the steady splattering, and the gurgle of the drain pipe, and (faintly) the drumming on the roof. The coming summer (little more than a month away!) will bring no pleasures such as this. I will enjoy it while I may.