It’s my companion outside my window this morning,my rain man,dancing in the Sunday morn,not holding back,not tip toeing ,just being it’s ever ness but without being restless.It descends from the havens,washing. Cleansing,purifying and mystifying,thank you rain man or main women .But,I suppose it’s gender neutral,not occupied by organs of hormones,by expectations of intent,just the promise of moisture.

Now,it’s sound becomes the consonant,and with that constant ,we still hope to observe its dancing beats,its treats to feet,it’s affects long after its dissipation,for it doesn’t ever finish its journey from sky to the earth.If the Earth has an outer layer,its known that it might wash off the dermis,but steadily,and with purpose,it’s persists,like an artist in pursuit of the Zenith of their expression,they persist in the brush strokes of their craft until they are convinced that it can’t be bettered.So too,the rain,never knowingly keeps away for ever acts as a point of survival ,a reason to hope that this Earth can ,and will,replenish itself ,that there are enough good people out there who do appreciate its wonderful qualities to be energised by it ,will flourish against negativity and pollution.

This rain,accompanied by the breeze outside,talks like this:”Don’t ever doubt me,I’m always going to be a constant,so please enjoy me,don’t take me for granted”.Now,as I write that,I wonder if the rain is really male or female,for we are stuck in many ways in this state in describing most things,but we assume that when we describe things that others of the opposite gender will ,by the delights of words ,or subtle nuance,understand.Honestly,I doubt that.I could want for some kind to understand what I write,but I can’t demand,can’t impose,can’t inflict my gender on them anymore than they can on me.So,if it’s rain women that l described,then I rather like the persistence,the rain dance textures of the drops that fall from the heavens in a concerto of droplets,accompanied by the breeze.Like the beauty of movement in dance,their affects linger far after their performance.

Somehow,it rain doesn’t have a gender,and what scientist would entertain such imaginary talk,then it is purely functional,and anything that is functional is depleted of warm,of feeling,of vibrancy and life.So,we prefer,or I do in this muse,to designate the subject of this muse that is rain to offer up the notion that it has a gender.To elaborate,whenever I would talk to the wooden boat builder at my local yard in Cornwall’s would invariably describe his latest boat as “almost ready for her sea trials”.That acceptance that his hand made boat was crafted into a She was interesting to me at the time.As I’ve grown up ,I’ve realised that,in truth,many males are,in fact,crafted by women.So,this illusion in many ways that nature doesn’t have to be a gender isn’t always how we process ,or perceive it.So,this water,this precipitation that descends is never fully without a touch of both male and female to me at least.However,I’m quirky in my outlook,in my appraisal of how things appear to me.

Going back to that boat builder,once I replied to him on his description that it was odd that boats were always described as being “she”.He looked at me nonplused :”It .as always bin like un”

So I went my way ,pretending to accept it ,but I never really did,as often as we humans struggle with far more complex things and either pretend to agree,or pretend to know.As I write this muse,the aircraft fly above me to I hail it the rain noise,but it doesn’t completely drown it out.So now,the rain is in the forefront again as the birds take shelter in the trees and the nocturnal animals find their burrows,their sets ready to dodge those humans.

It’s settle outside,one or two Sunday cars of to their destinations,their activities afar.

Thank you rain,thank you ,whoever you are,thank you for giving the Earth some dancing mirth.

Truly,a wonderful artist,Frederic Chopin,composed a prelude inspired by you in Malaga and it has become a favourite of many a person since it’s writing,You see,artist don’t know you as just a metereological,No,they just don’t.

This is my muse for today and is what I have to say .

I’m not hearing any music today for a melodious,of harmonic,or a symphonic nature,but I can hear the rain and it is a wonder to behold.

Someone once said that if you can hear music in the birds,the thunder,the wind and rain,then,you are a musician.That is a powerful thing to say,and it chimes with me so very very much.

Thank you .

Kernowsmith.

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