It could rain. However, with the temperature reading slightly below 10 degrees F, the white sky hanging in that before snowfall way, plus the forecast of a winter storm warning, rain is unlikely. Hercules has come to New Jersey, bringing northeast winds, the air outside brittle, the trees waiting to dance.
It could rain. The very sentence contains a simplicity, a vagueness, a yearning or a knowledge of weather. The first word is one I try to avoid unless absolutely necessary, but in this case, trying to substitute another word sounds awkward, disrupts the noun/verb arrangement. (Please indulge me in a bit of wordplay on a cold, cold day. My umbrella collection thanks you, in advance.)
Today could rain. Sunday could rain. Frogs could rain. Everyday could rain. Somewhat interesting, but perhaps the second word is the real problem, if indeed there is a problem. (There are some cultures where umbrella carrying is quite common on sunny days, whether for health reasons or vanity or tradition.)
It could rain. It might rain. It will rain. It should rain. It did rain. It cannot rain. It imagines rain. It expects rain. See the trouble word substitution brings to a seemingly simple phrase. This little game would not be fair if I didn't also fiddle with the third word, rain.
It could rain. (At this point, I feel politeness dictates I should point out carrying an umbrella has no social stigma attached. Especially if the umbrella is well made or can be used as a weapon of self defense, if need be.) It could pour. It could drizzle. It could drench. It could dampen. It could sleet. It could rain. Realistically speaking, somewhere on this planet it will be raining as it snows here and elsewhere.
Personally, I rather enjoy a good, grey, rainy day. The world seems gentler, slightly blurred. Rainy nights, the same as train sounds, lullabyes unless the roof is leaking, but even then there is a sense of resignation. A lifting of the sense of having to fix broken things or the repeated realization of so much which cannot be controlled, so just enjoy the moment. Let it rain. Let it snow.
Having never actually purchased a new umbrella for myself, I possess an odd array given to me as gifts. My preference is instead, an old Barbour raincoat that has served me well, despite my lack of proper care.
How often your Barbour garment will need reproofing depends on the amount and type of usage it will get, however, to ensure its long service it is imperative that you check the garment regularly, say once a month, to ensure there are no 'dry' areas where the proofing has been worn away. Pay particular attention to critical areas such as the shoulders, neck seams and areas most subject to friction, eg. pockets, creases in sleeves and the knees of the trousers.
From time to time the whole garment will need reproofing with Barbour Thornproof Dressing. Use only Barbour Original Thornproof Dressing, as substitutes are invariably less effective and may, in fact, harm the garment.
DO NOT wash with soap, detergent or hot water, dry clean, starch or iron.
DO NOT store wet garment in a confined area.
DO NOT hang on radiators, expose to naked flame, or use artificial heat to dry.
Please refer to 'Care' leaflet for full instructions.(This line is translated into French, German, Italian, and Spanish.)
The Barbour coat I have is navy blue with blue, red, white plaid flannel lining. All zippers are functional, all grommets intact, no rips or tears, and although it's a man's coat made in England, with three endorsements by Her Majesty The Queen, H.R.H. The Duke of Edinburgh, and H.R.H. The Prince of Wales, in tiny gold lettering, I purchased it secondhand so long ago, it's now being sold on eBay as vintage. I love it mostly for its pockets, two on each side, one hidden inside the left front flap, and a large bellows pocket across the back. Practical.