There is poetry in the way Bud sees the world.
We drove through a rain shower today. It was the kind of rain shower we only see in the summer around here - the kind in which plump, full raindrops appear slowly out of nowhere, gain furious speed, build to a crashing crescendo, then disappear and give way to brilliant sunshine all in a matter of minutes.
It started with raindrops that must have been the size of quarters. They fell slowly, hitting the windshield one at a time with a sound that filled the car:
The pace increased and suddenly the smacking sounds thundered as the downpour became torrential, the rain bouncing and swirling on the windows, blocking our view of the outside world.
"Mom!" Bud said, his voice full of awe, "The rain!"
"I know," I said, wondering if he was getting scared. "It's really neat!"
"It's like popcorn!" he said.
He was exactly right.