Summer In England

I was enjoying a lovely morning's work in the garden today. The sun was out, the air was still and warm. I was happily going along doing all the trimmings that I've been neglecting for the whole of Spring, when a dark black cloud started drifting over my sun. Pretty soon some fat drops of rain were splashing down on my back. Regardless of the size of the drops, it was still a light sprinkling, so I kept working. Before long, though, it picked up the pace. So I started cleaning up the clippings, getting them inside. Usually, when the rain decides it wants to be serious about getting things wet, it acts just like snow. The larger the flakes (or drops) the less serious the storm. Well, every once in a while that pattern breaks. And in fact, this cloud let loose with a heavy downpour of enormous drops. By the time I got the clippings all gathered, bagged and into the shed (so the containers wouldn't collect rain) and got inside, I no longer needed a shower. I was wet enough that it looked like I'd just stepped out of one! And those fat drops were running down out of my hairline, streaming across my face. Within 10 minutes, the rain had passed and the sun was back out. Unfortunately for my gardening ambitions, though, it had succeeded in drenching everything. It's no longer feasible to cut the grass or do any more trimming 'til things dry out a bit. Never mind, that's Summer in England!