A column of hot wet rain shook itself over the city as we dipped below the clouds. I watched it through the little porthole window as I nibbled on my soggy croissant and rehydrated orange juice. Watched it as it licked the tiles of the rooves, of the cafes and the clubs and the homes and the hospitals and the fire stations. And it didn’t come to us yet, it just hovered there, fat and methodical, wiping the dirt off the towers and feeding the window boxes. Until we got a little bit closer and it started to spit and spatter on the windows and say, hi, good to see you again, come join the party. Everything’s going to be fine.