When Ryle was a kid he loved the rain.
He loved the way the raindrops pitter pattered in the horse shit on the farm and made the whole farm smell of wet horse shit. He knew his father would force him to clean the horse shit come next morning, but he still loved the smell.
He loved the way the whole farm turned into an unwilling quicksand on rainy days and sucked at his shoes as he ran in the rain. One time he lost a shoe to the quicksand and his father had made him dig through the whole field to look for the missing shoe.
He loved all the snakes and creepy crawlers that came out with the rain and climbed inside the legs of his half pants. Even in his later years he could not forget the incident of the poison making everything twice its size in his trousers. He still heard the hyena like giggles of the nurses.
Still, he loved the way the rain made the power lines buzz and crackle with electricity and many times the wait near the power lines was rewarded by the transformer blowing up with a loud bang. He loved the smell of burnt plastic and electricity in the air.
Above all, he loved the loud sound of the thunderbolts sticking the tall iron bars his father had dug in the field from keeping in the animals. Ryle clearly remembered the day when lightening had struck an errant cow that was standing in the field and made instant barbeque of the poor animal. Ryle and family feasted on the cow for the next whole week.
Ryle liked the way his father stank of whisky on rainy days and his mother smelled faintly of antiseptic. With years, his father smelled strongly of whisky and his mother smelled more and more of blood.
Time passed, rain kept on falling and as Ryle grew he loved every drop of the rain.
A human mind has a great capacity to ignore the important, and distract itself with the mundane. Way to go Ryle.