Here comes the soft, murmuring patter of a light summer rain upon green leaves and the stony pathway. On the covered porch, my timid weather-wise self stays dry; that is, until the cheerful song of the birds within the trees shames me out of my dry sanctuary to join them in the rain. Together we enjoy the jewel-like raindrops of liquid light falling upon us. I hover beneath the canopy of the trees, with the birds above me hidden among the many branches of leaves. Standing there among the green, I become part man, part tree, listening to the Faerie Folk humming to themselves in the rain.