Slight rain, a bit of snow mixed in. The grass is getting greener before my eyes. The trees are budding. Some grow with vigour and some don’t come back. It has nothing to do with harshness or strength. That’s why young die and we shake our heads at the sky.
Religion is both to blame and expected to offer comfort. If you believe in that stuff.
I prefer the rain thawing the ground. The creeks filling with water dirtied by sluff, carving a new route, washing out bridges when necessary. It seems more truthful.
Even a slight rain will soak through, if you let it.