My aunt, who has lived in Colorado for over three decades, tells me her definition of rain when we move here: "When the rain droplets bleed together on the pavement."
Sometimes, the droplets evaporate on the pavement more quickly than they fall. (Today was not one of those times.)
Mattias asks if we can "turn off now?" as though the rain is a human controlled sprinkler. It's been a dry year. He's 28 months old. Sometimes I forget how short his frame of reference still is.
I discover that pulling air through the wet screen door has an additional cooling effect. I add this idea to my list of passive cooling strategies.
Afternoon rain showers: the best.