Rain.
…. Last weekend, driving to the other side of Vermont, I pulled over and read the Gazetteer to navigate through back roads. My daughter leaned forward from the backseat and asked, in complete seriousness, Are you actually reading a map?
Indeed, I was — and capably, I might add.
This morning, in the garden, I lifted my face to the mist-swaddled sky and wondered, Are you actually raining?
Indeed. Yes.
I love all films that start with rain:
rain, braiding a windowpane
or darkening a hung-out dress
or streaming down her upturned face…
— Don Paterson, “Rain”
Stony Soil Vermont 
Did you get real rain? Just a tease here… it’s about as dry as I’ve seen in years.
I recently travelled with my family. When we picked up the rental car, the man behind the counter offered me a Garmin or some similar GPS device. Over the protests of my 19 year old technology-reliant son, I politely declined and proudly (obnoxiously?) declared that half the fun of traveling was getting lost and discovering things you never imagined. Later in the trip, I overheard my son making the same declaration to someone else, as if it was his own. I loved that moment. I love maps.