The wizened elder cocked her head and thought that perhaps the glittering strings of water were best remembered as rain ribbons of slowly dancing twists of silver. She smiled and today became a remembered monochrome of summer storms of a long past childhood.

The great blue heron was standing on the fishing pier railing at the Jordan Lake Dam tailrace this morning.
She was ignoring the rain but intently watching another great blue heron on the other side of the river.
Good thing my camera also ignores the rain, but I do try to keep it dry.
Now, as far as doc goes: my winter coat shed the rain and most of the cold, but I was happy to return to my truck after an hour or so.