Other than the anxiety provoked by the looming threat of terminal illness, the day was pleasant enough. Some of yesterday's rain found its way back into the air as the bright sunlight coaxed it from the damp ground, and on their way to join the vast cloud billows floating above, the vaporous molecules trailed the scents of the soil or grass or tiny fungi they had recently vacated, as well as the scent of distant rivers and seas. That water's been around. Tomorrow there'll be more water arriving from distant parts, and more will be following on Friday. If I am not yet delirious from raging fever, I intend to enjoy it. If I am delirious, I might imagine I'm Sadie Thompson, in which case I'll drink to excess and won't care that I'm dying.
Oh, outside the window a yellow bowl of moon heaped with earthshine! I must go out and look, pneumonia or not!
