First, the scientific method. You look at the ground. If it’s dark and splotchy, you assume rain. But conspiracy theory alert: sometimes that’s just a rogue puddle from last week’s drizzle, or a drunk pigeon who missed the gutter. Or—and this is a genuine fact—it could be dew.
London’s microclimate is a chaotic menace. Last July, it rained so gently at 3 a.m. that no one heard it, yet by dawn, every car looked like it had been through a drive-through car wash. The Met Office calls this “light precipitation.” I call it clandestine wetness.
Here’s a surprising fact: London doesn’t actually get the most rain in the UK. That dubious honor goes to Cardiff or Glasgow. But London gets the most “did it rain?” debates per capita. We’re champions of ambiguity.
