I used to loooove wet autumn days. You'd get cosy by the fire, a good book resting in your lap as you doze to the rattle of rain on the roof. Outside everything looks sparkly and misty and nice.
Now, things are just wet. And muddy. And there you are, stuck in the house with three cabin-crazed children while the rain bleats loudly down on the roof such that the kids have to scream even more than usual and now they have an excuse.
I thought I'd make it some.
The tree seems happier. And, of course, it likes the rain.