If I look out of my window from the first floor all I see are the tops of trees swaying in the cool breeze of a monsoon morning.

It usually rains in the evening where I live but the sky is gray almost the whole day. And this morning the sky is a thick smoky grey. But that is offset by the bright green trees that are drenched in rain.

This is when I yearn for the downpour of the tropical rains. Rain, that flirts outrageously with your senses. Unlike this hesitant pitter patter. However, I am always hopeful that it will suddenly turn into torrential rain. And one can run into its warm, soothing embrace.

During ma convesation with ma friends over the phone the other day we came up with our favorite rain associated memory.

I have several.

And they all tumble out like the rain outside. Relunctant. Soggy with nostalgia. Tinged ever so slightly with disappointment that it wasn't. Yet with the promise of so much more.