Capturing the relentlessness of the rain

Days and days of relentless, unending rain. It seemed like there was no way it could go on, and yet it did. Grey skies, mud, puddles and even small lakes where before there had just been fields. The earth could scarcely absorb another drop, and yet the rain continued. On and on, day after day, with scarcely a moment of relief. Maybe the odd moment or two of sunshine, but always another dark bank of clouds on the horizon, promising that the sunshine would be short-lived. Temperatures hovered around 5-6°C, adding to the general sense of cold and damp. Nothing dried in these conditions. Laundry remained damp and began to smell musty. The ground water seeped up through the brick floor of the pantry. The hens, even when the door was opened so they could go out and scratch about, huddled inside, murmuring their complaints, loathe to get soaked. Even the snowdrops, normally the most hardy of souls, were tattered and drooping, their frilly white heads bowed heavily with raindrops. It didn't even really matter that the light was returning to these northern climes, as the greyness of the skies and the eternal rain, made everything colorless and cast a dusk-like pallor over the whole day. We didn't know how much more we could take.