The rain chain hung from the gutter to the ground. A series of copper cups linked together like a necklace and the rain traveled down the chain cup by cup and each cup spilled into the next and the sound was a xylophone made of water. The rain chain was the music box of the building.

The Japanese invented the rain chain. Kusari-doi. A thousand years old. The chain replaced the downspout because the chain was beautiful and the downspout was not. The chain let you see the water. The downspout hid it. The rain chain believed the rain was worth watching. The downspout believed the rain was a problem to solve.

My landlord on Rivington Street had a rain chain on the front of the building. Copper. Turned green after two winters. He said his grandfather brought the idea from Kyoto. The rain chain made the front of the building sound like a fountain. The kids stood under it in summer and let the water hit their hands. The rain chain turned a rainstorm into a toy.

In winter the rain chain froze. The water turned to ice in the cups and the ice connected the cups and the chain became a column of glass. The frozen rain chain was the most beautiful thing on the block. The sun hit the ice and the ice threw light into the apartment and the apartment had a chandelier it did not pay for. The freeze was a gift.

Nobody uses rain chains in New York anymore. The building code wants a downspout. The downspout is enclosed. The downspout is quiet. The downspout moves water from the roof to the sewer and nobody sees it and nobody hears it. The rain chain made the water a guest. The downspout makes the water a prisoner. The rain still falls. The building just stopped introducing it.

See also: Rain Gutter, Drain Pipe