Usually the rain triggers the writer in me. They make m enostalgic and ring in fond memories of the forgotten past, of forgotten people and forgotten emotions. Today it is raining, ferociously. the clouds are striking down as if they were very angry with someone. The clouds seem to be pouring down their hatred at some loved one . Why are the clouds so angry and at whom, me thinks. Their wrath falling upon us humble beings. Just as one cloud quietens down another from a distance roars. Are these mere heated conversations among a group of fellow clouds? Ho! And I was thinking that it is the curse raining down. .. The clouds have softened, the water a quiet drizzle, the land happy at its wetness, the trees abundant with joy and me.. glad that I can still write…