There is an absolute storm raging in Vancouver as I type. The wind occasionally reminds me of its continual patrol of the neighbourhood by roaring outside my window every now and then, splattering sheets of rain onto the glass with additional force.
In the last year and a half I’ve been residing here, I’ve never heard the wind and rain go at the trees like this. A mild drizzle that people frequently complain about, I’m used to — but this? I was beginning to believe that Vancouver never storms, and, to borrow a consumerist phrase, I’m loving it. This is what rain should be like, buckets and buckets and buckets of it!
Come pouring right on down and let the winds whistle to their hearts’ content: I’m going to sleep like a babe tonight; this is what home feels like.
