It is late at night; everybody is asleep and only the pitter-patter of rain fills the cavernous silence. I have a good book in hand. Indulgent snatches of sleep steal in between long, prosy paragraphs. Biscuits creep out from the larder.
Nights like this are hard to come by. And it is precisely on nights like this one that rain makes for an excellent soundtrack, and solitude a comforting friend.