Tap! There’s only one at first. Tap tap tap! More follow. Ever increasing until it becomes a symphony, roaring like a thousand fingernails tapping against a hard surface. Rhythmic but wild at the same time. Sometimes, the wind in all its heaving and swaying decides to dance with the drops. Forcing them harder against the beaten metal. Or softer, sweeping them away giving the surface a kind reprieve of the force it had moments ago. The sound is nature in all of its wild and frightening glory. In its wake am reminded to be thankful for the thin metal that protects me from its undirected wrath.