When Rufus and I take our daily walks, at one point we pass four or five locust trees planted in a row. As we walked along there yesterday morning, yellow locust leaves rained down all around us when a sudden gust of wind blew. The falling leaves were a golden shower in the morning light against the blue, blue autumn sky. As I thought that, I was instantly irritated that I can never use that phrase without a vulgar, sexual connotation being attached to it.
In fact, it irritates me every time I think about it.