It had to rain eventually, and when it did, I was glad that the wondrous spell, which Spring has casted upon this truly wonderful city, was not undone. As I left my flat to make the short, pleasant journey to the gelateria on Bute Street, a smile found its way to my face. It was surprisingly warm and, reasonably protected as I was from the rain, didn't feel too different from the beautiful days we had had - only a little wetter.
Walking a little of the way home after some gelato and espresso, I noticed the flowers that have managed to free themselves from the confines of lifeless-looking branches. They were beautiful (in fact, I stopped to look at a bough full of pink flowers, hoping I could put a name to them).
I am not the biggest fan of rain and perhaps, the reason I tolerate it as much as I do is the sturdy umbrella I'd invested in some months ago. However, today was strange in that not only did I appreciate the light shower but, as I breathed in the mild but comforting scent of rain for the first time since I came to live in this city, I also felt (and continue to feel) that had it not been as wet, the day would not have been half as good.
If today were a cake, then the flowers would have been the cake itself. And the rain? The rain would have been the frosting. For it was the rain that ultimately lifted my mood, whispering promises of better days to come.