The sound of rain beating against my bedroom window Monday night brought two conflicting sentiments. First, I thought of the thousands who had recently bailed out of flooded basements after 11 straight days of rain and hoped we were not in for a repeat performance.

Then my own selfish sentiments set in: I love the rain and its soothing chorus. At best, I can stay in bed on such days, reading a good book or canvassing the cable stations. But even forced to get up and get out isn’t that bad. I love hopping over puddles, rain on my face and the sense of peace and calm that oversets me on such days, unusual creature that I am.

I remember one day recently when an incessant warm rain came upon us. My grandson was particularly disconcerted because he wanted to play in the park, an adventure that we obviously had to put off to another day. I assured him adventure was to be found in rain as well, and we dressed for the weather, stepping outside and having a wonderful time in the puddles at the curb and in the grass. We watched spirals of water circle down the drains, and leaves circling in the currents. Rain was, I told him, God’s way of giving the sun a rest and cleaning His house.

So, with all due respect to those who may have some water in their basements—again, I say welcome to another rainy day. May you also find the fun in it.