... I'm getting closer to nature.

Nothing remarkable about that, I suppose, especially since the days are getting longer and sunnier (although the weather of the past few days seem to have missed that "It's Spring!" memo, 'cause it feels more like autumn around here, but never mind) and many people are slowly snapping out of their long indoor winter hibernation.

Except... I'm getting closer to nature without having to set even one foot out of our Baltimore rowhouse!

You see, as I was in the bathroom brushing my teeth yesterday morning and listening to the pleasant staccato of the rain hitting the roof, it was almost as if I could FEEL the rain drops falling on my head.

Just as I was about to marvel at the sudden, mysterious appearance of such a vivid imagination in my very own head, and before I could even begin to think of how useful the possession of such a healthy and rich imagination would be to the likes of me, an aspiring creative type, I felt a few more very cold and very realistic trickling sensations on my scalp.

Immediately suspicious, I tilted my head back and looked up, and "Plop!" - just then a rain drop hit me square in the eye!

Yes, folks... It was raining on my head! While I was in the bathroom! (And no, wise asses, I wasn't anywhere near the shower.)

I've mentioned before that our bathroom has a little tower skylight, right? I assure you, it's nothing fancy - it's a standard ventilation feature in most Baltimore rowhouse bathrooms - but the extra light is very lovely, since the bathroom doesn't have any windows.

Turns out our little skylight, light of our lives (well, in the bathroom at least), has inexplicably sprung a tiny leak. Nothing major, thank goodness, but enough to let some of the elements into the house.

In a way this is a good thing, because as you know, along with our other unique shortcomings eccentricities (like being the only living beings to still use dial-up and not have TiVo), we also don't have cable television. Therefore we have no access to The Weather Channel. So having this eh... rather unique bathroom feature is certainly going to make checking the weather a whole lot easier.

It also reminds me of a garden accessory that used to be all the rage in South Africa a few years ago. It was a sign, usually on a rock, with the following phrases painted on it: "If this rock is wet, it's raining. If this rock is dry, it's sunny. If you can see this rock, it's clear. If you can't see this rock, it's foggy," etc. Since we seem to be getting all these weather conditions in the bathroom, maybe we should paint something similar on our bathroom mirror?

And to think that the author Henry David Thoreau, in order to get a little closer to nature and the elements, abandoned civilization and moved into a rustic self-built cabin at Walden Pond for two years and two months! Rather extreme, if you ask me. Maybe it's better that I'm not a real writer, because they sure are strange, aren't they? And really, if he wanted all the weather he could weather, all he needed to have done instead was to move to this concrete jungle of Baltimore and into our rustic rowhouse with the broken skylight and go and spend some time in the bathroom!

Another quick trip to the bathroom (aren't I just becoming too outdoorsy for words?) has just confirmed that it has stopped raining for the time being. A sudden wind gust is creating a bit of a draft, though, so if you'll excuse me, I'm off to dry my hair!