A trend is emerging. It cannot be coincidence. First it rained on Chris Patten's handover party. Then it rained on Tung Chee-hwa's. Yesterday, the heavens opened again. Is it an omen? Do the gods disapprove of democracy? Or flawed democracy? Is it something to do with Mr Tung? Tung the Rainmaker? The people were not put off by Mr Tung's calling for less politics at one moment and urging them to vote the next. They were not put off by the torrents of abuse from Beijing over the 1995 elections. Why be put off by torrents of water? It started slowly. Hardly a voter arrived to disturb journalists jostling for shelter at the polling station at St Joseph's School. Martin Lee Chu-ming arrived to cast his ballot, his white campaign trousers a trifle inappropriate for the day's task of negotiating puddles of black water. The photographers and cameramen, disappointed they would not be allowed a shot of the SAR's most famous politician casting his vote, dutifully recorded his silent entry and exit. Mr Lee, disappointed he would not be allowed to speak to the press in the polling station, crossed the street to give his speech. A most important day in the history of China, he said. His wife, Amelia, posed at his side. How did she enjoy being a campaign wife? A gesture of weary resignation. Mr Lee left. The CCTV cameras suddenly appeared. So did the protesters from the April 5th action group. There were rumours they would burn a flag when the Chief Executive cast his vote at the same polling station. The media jostled some more. Mr Tung did vote for the cameras and did make a short speech. No one burned a flag. But April 5th's Leung Kwok-hung, who had been shouting for full democracy, one man, one vote and a directly elected chief executive, did confess he was 'not a voter'. He had been too busy to register. At Siu Sai Wan, at the other end of the island, the voters were queuing in long lines, despite the rain. It was closer to dim sum time. Christine Loh Kung-wai's campaign team arrived. Quietly. They held placards, walked down the street, greeted no one, shook no hands and returned to their car. Ms Loh's famous dog was not brought along to wave a paw. 'We're creating colour,' said Ms Loh, explaining this would help raise awareness of her campaign. She drove off, leaving party workers to raise awareness in more conventional ways. Over to Kowloon. Whampoa Gardens awash. Water in every shoe. And still they came. Umbrellas aloft. Wading from the tea-shops to the polling stations. Casting their ballots and sloshing back. Why, in such weather? 'What's a little rain?' a bedraggled voter shot back.