It’s been raining for two days straight, with varying intensity. There’s no need to look out of the window to see how hard it’s falling. When it starts to bucket, the frogs--many of them high in the trees--greet the downpour with a sudden frenzy of croaking.
Then the rain stopped and we could go out into the world again.
On the bank of a roaring river
A man plucks a shamisen;
A white heron flies upstream
--Julian