Is this sodden summer really as dreadful as everyone makes out? OK, it's pouring down by the bucketload, parts of the country have been rescued by lifeboats and Northern Ireland has broken its August rainfall record. But let's look on the bright side. It's been a fabulous summer for cloudspotting, with outrageous cumulus clouds puffed up like whipped cream that would send Constable into raptures.

And without a sodden climate, where would Shakespeare have got inspiration for “The rain it raineth every day” from Twelfth Nightand King Lear, or for The Tempest?

Complaints about incessant rain seep through our literature from Chaucer, Shelley, Byron and Browning, and as for blaming it all on climate change, let's not forget that it was in 1818 that John Keats fumed: “It is impossible to live in a country which is continually under hatches... Rain! Rain! Rain!”

Rain is, quite simply, what makes Britain. We were never designed for Mediterranean-style heat. Natural selection made Britons go lobster red in sunshine and the population suffers an appalling upsurge in deaths at the first hint of a heatwave.

It is no coincidence that we invented the umbrella for rain, not sunshine, not to mention the mackintosh and macadamised road surfaces. Our houses have steeply pitched roofs for rain and we have something bordering on a national obsession for the weather forecast.

And what may seem a shocking summer for us is actually nirvana for the plant world. It has been a glorious year for wildflowers, and our fabulous native orchids have put on a stunning display. The rains have been a lifeline for trees, which have suffered appalling ill-health in the recent droughts that left them gasping for water and so stressed out that they shed leaves early and succumbed to the most diabolical diseases and pests.

After two thoroughly wet summers they are reviving in all their glory. As Gordon Pfetscher of the Woodland Trust explained: “If I was a tree I would much prefer this wet summer than a hot dry one. Trees are happier, they're less likely to be infected, and more resilient.”

You could not have wished for a more perfect season for growing hops, which need lashings of rain in spring and summer, and a bumper crop of truffles and wild mushrooms is promised by the damp conditions.

But the plants that really lap up the rain all summer long are peatbog flora. Sphagnum mosses and other wetland plants are addicted to rain, and it is no accident that Britain has some of the world's finest peatbogs. They may look bleak, desolate and dismal, but bogs help to protect against floods by soaking up water like a sponge. When it comes to climate change, forget about planting trees to offset carbon footprints, peatbogs are far better at soaking up carbon dioxide. The planet needs more bogs.

We can also breathe much easier this summer. The curse of hay fever has been damped down by the rain swamping pollen grains - bad news for the sex life of grasses, but welcome relief from sneezing, wheezing and itching eyes.

The wind and rain has also kept air pollution down by sweeping tons of muck out of the air, keeping toxic air pollution at low levels - the last thing you need is stagnant traffic fumes cooking under a hot sun and producing air pollution. And there is little chance of sunburn this summer.

With lots of rain there is no excuse for water companies moaning about consumers wasting water when reservoirs are brimming. Vast underground reserves of water are, unusually, recharging now, after years of being sorely depleted. With cooler temperatures than in recent times we don't have to worry about roads melting, railway lines buckling, bridges seizing up, chickens not laying eggs, road rage and the London Underground turning into a Turkish bath.

While ice-cream and barbecue sellers are having a rotten time, an abysmal summer boosts sales of umbrellas, waterproofs, tumble dryers, mops and buckets. Britons find solace in ready-made meals, tinned soup, meatballs, cakes and chocolate. If this summer is anything like last year's there will have been a marked upturn in business for cinemas, nightclubs, bingo halls and gambling websites, as well as DVD and fake tan sales.

Strangest of all, this is actually a fairly normal summer. There has been a real whiff of nostalgia about it, a reminder of seaside holidays in former days when you packed waterproofs and plenty of books with the bucket and spade. Not for nothing did British seaside resorts build amusement arcades, tea shops and other shelters from the elements. In Victorian times and earlier, the summers were actually wetter than the winters, the opposite of today.

And there is one other astonishing thing about this summer. Despite all the gales, rain, hail, floods, and thunderstorms, temperatures are just about average, whereas in days gone by, wet summers were invariably cold. Perhaps that is a sign of climate change.

Paul Simons writes the Weather Eye column in The Times

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