A lady raindrop slowly fell through the air, an aristocrat, indeed; nourished by a fine lake in Switzerland and therefore particular about her landing.
With horror she recall landing on a dog. Had it been a pure breeding it had been okay – but an ordinary watchdog? No, that was really beneath her.
But she remembers with joy when she fell in a cup of tea at a garden party. She had arrived in perfect time and gave the tea just the right temperature. Those are the things a lady raindrop knows how to appreciate.
Not to mention the time when she was first on site and could warn a whole hunting party of a gathering storm. They all rode oh so hastily into safety before the mob came. Those are the things you could only learn in the finer lakes of Switzerland.
And to what deed was faith bringing her now? She saw somebody sitting in the garden, a sorry-looking character by the look of it, with one leg nonchalant cast over the other. He was writing in a book – a writer! No, she definitely didn’t want to end up there! But, augh! She seemed to land on his head…
Maybe, if she reached out, she could fly pass him? It was worth trying. She reeeaaached out as faaaar as she could and passed him by an inch – and fell flat on his copybook. The poor raindrop was besmeared with ink and got a black eye.
Oh, how quickly she dripped over the edge of the book and hide in the grass, shivering and spiting ink. This was the worst trip ever!
The poor raindrop. She didn’t know that the writer in the garden, that was me! That’s how I got the idea to write about her life. And mind you, there are worse things that can happen a raindrop from Switzerland…
Illustration by Cathrin Hesselstrand.
This fairy tale in Swedish: Den förnäma regndroppen från Schweiz.