September rainings are not exactly what I’d call cheery. Nor do they seem to promote cheeriness in those venturing out into the wetness.
Yet for all the gloomy greys and despondent dampness, this rainy morning does have potential to be joyful. Maybe I am attracted to Dickinson’s poem because it seems to be the converse of what I am experiencing today.
Why do we often associate rain with tears rather than bubbling laughter?

A DROP fell on the apple tree
Another on the roof;
A half a dozen kissed the eaves,
And made the gables laugh.

A few went out to help the brook,
That went to help the sea.
Myself conjectured, Were they pearls,
What necklaces could be!

The dust replaced in hoisted roads,
The birds jocoser sung;
The sunshine threw his hat away,
The orchards spangles hung.

The breezes brought dejected lutes,
And bathed them in the glee;
The East put out a single flag,
And signed the fête away.

-Emily Dickinson

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