We are not used to it. Weeds grow hurriedly along the driveway, anxious that they might miss their moment; their boldness does nothing to disguise that they were caught off guard. For gardeners, this rain is a trickster, pulling bright green shoots out of the ground long before the dangers of snow and cold snaps have passed.
Nothing is literally more interesting than the weather. How could it be otherwise? It thoroughly defines our immediate environment. To dismiss the weather as unimportant is to suggest that we live independently of our environs, that we are actors on a stage and the stage does not inflect us.