If weather - which is of such direct and immediate, let alone long-term importance to the lives of people - can said to be just about right, we should lay claims to that being the case right now, in the Ottawa Valley.  Perhaps people who dislike constant rain and thunderstorms might disagree, but since we have also been receiving our due share of dry conditions interspersed with the wet, and plenty of sunshine as well, it's as close to perfect a combination as is possible.

The gardens are thriving, and so are the woodlands.  There's no need to fret about constantly ensuring that hanging pots don't dry out; they have no opportunity to do so.  The birds are happy, and so is insect life, let alone all other creatures of the Earth.  There is an abundance of elemental conditions so necessary to the continuation of life, under quality circumstances.

As for us, it's as close to perfection as possible, to sit out on our deck, shaded from the sun beating down on the gardens, reading the newspapers, smiling at one another in contentment, looking around at the beauty surrounding us, and hearing, in the distance the unmistakable peal of approaching thunder.  The sun begins to weaken as it is gradually covered with a determined set of ever-darker clouds, and then dark descends and the claps of thunder draw nearer.

Then begins the patter of droplets above us on the canvas of the awning stretched over the deck, under which we sit.  In concert with the thunder we see the sky lit momentarily with the electrical strikes that follow, and the drops turn into a thunderous applause of heavy rain sloshing the atmosphere.

Do we make a mad dash for the interior of our house, hauling along our little dog, the newspapers, the glider cushions and ourselves?  Hardly, we sit out that storm and another that follows soon afterward, enjoying the tumult, the rage above us, the freshening of the wind and the comfortable din and dim as we placidly enjoy the celebration of nature's renewal and consider ourselves exceedingly fortunate.