They say “rain before seven, sun by eleven,” which seems to happen most times, even a few times in Vancouver. I see rain headed for us coming up from the states, Ohio, MIchigan or Illinois. It usually plows through Niagara or Toronto and I figure we’re next in line, but it often splits and heads north of the 401 or along the south side of the lake through New York state. Sometimes you can see Rochester getting slammed by huge thunderheads lighting up the stratosphere, or see north to Napanee and the nimbo stratus bursting their contents, while the skies above us are clear and the sun is setting in the west. This morning we had the full on thunder, lightening and waves of warm rain, for the garden to soak up. I knew it would be sunny by eleven but I didn’t know we’d have the heat and humidity—not that I mind. This is what summer in Ontario is about, suffering until you can make it to a beach, a pool, or just a cold shower. It’s not that easy for everyone; some folks are stuck in hot apartments with not even a fan or a breeze or an open window. Some don’t see it in as romantic and atmospheric a way as I do. I may not see it that way when I have to leave my air conditioned place of employment and step back out onto the street.