For a change, I'm bringing you a work by a living author. Jacob Polley is one of the leading lights of the UK poetry scene, a Carlisle-born lad who writes of rain and darkness like no one around.
His poetry is widely considered to get the closest at what makes the North of England so...Northern. He brings us the circumstances and the atmosphere which might explain why people of the North are so protective about their separate identities, complete with a different slang and a number of different accents.
While I have avoided selecting one of his many poems about rain and its many shapes, I have found one that shows off his way with a turn of phrase, his ability to skillfully manipulate both the obvious and more subtle evocations of certain words to paint a picture of a place that sounds simultaneously fantastical and all too real.