A Symphony in Copper
The Sweet Song of the Rain
I awoke this morning to the sweet sound of the copper rain gutters singing. We added them last year, mostly for their aesthetics. At first rosy pink and bright as a new penny, they are now darkening to a lustrous, rich hue, swirled with what almost looks like oil on a pond — peacock blue and fuscia — dotted here and there at the rivets with that tell-tale turquoise that comes with age. What I had not expected though, was the delight of their audible symphony when the heavens drop their tears from the sky
Because they are concave, at first you hear the individual droplets of rain hitting the surface and bouncing, joyfully, against the sloping walls. Then, the drops join with the others in a rising crescendo that ripples along the length of the house before tumbling down the drain and into the garden, which receives the liquid melody with open arms.
The song varies from the tenuousness of a first kiss to the flourish of a full-fledged love. It rises and falls like the undulations of passion leading to the ultimate ecstasy, and then softens to a warm afterglow, which lingers in your ears.
