So far it’s rained every day this year.
Yesterday I went out with a friend and walked in it. I was grateful for my (relatively) new sombrero. On the way down to the metro I had to stop and appreciate the moment: hundreds of madrileños in one tiny plaza, street too small for cars, no sound louder than the rain but the song of one lonely, saxophone. The downpour, the baroque pink building across the street, the drops of rain off the brim of my hat and a single beautiful voice, wailing a song about bad weather and steadfast love.