I just watched the first two episodes of Myth Busters on the Discovery Channel. Great fun. It's dumb, they go fast and blow things up. My favorite kind of television. The premise of the show is that they test urban legends, to see if they are at least physically possible. In the first episode, they stick rockets on a Chevy Impala to find out if the legend about the guy who did that in Arizona and ended up squashed against a cliff at 350 miles and hour could have happened. Then, they filled a pig's stomach with a six pack of soda and six packages of pop rocks, to find out if Mikey from the Life Cereal commercials could actually have died of a ruptured stomach after doing that. In the second episode, they put cans of biscuit dough in a hot car to see if they explode, and then they try sticking a giant butt on an airline toilet seat, to see if someone could actually get trapped there from the toilet's suction. It is the totally mindless application of science to problems of no consequence whatsoever. We need more shows like this. I'm watching it every week.
Now that the rain has ended, and the clouds are breaking up, the night sky has gotten lively again. Billowing clouds drifting across the half moon play with its light for a while, then move away to lurk as shadowy forms above the mountains. A thin mist then captures a vast ring of moonlight, set with stars. At last, thin streaks of light begin to show in the east, where streaks of cloud have settled. Maybe the sky will turn grey again after dawn, or maybe the clouds will dissipate and leave a blank dome of blue. Whatever happens, the day will be a bit longer. A third of winter has passed, and I count the days to the equinox.
At various times tonight, we have had both of my favorite kinds of condensation; fog, and fine mist. I suppose they are my favorites in part because of their rarity. If they were common, I'd probably grow tired of them. The mist was especially nice, arriving first shortly after sunset and filling the dusk with a swirl of gleaming specks. I don't enjoy walking in rain, but mist is quite pleasant. The tiny cool drops make my skin tingle, and when they are inhaled, they make my mouth water, as though I were tasting the crisp air. Walking in mist is an impressionist experience, with film noir overtones. I can imagine myself walking along shiny city streets alone, wearing a trench coat and fedora, the passing scene half revealed in pools of light from the street lamps and lighted shop windows, the arachnid web of streets spreading a map of infinite possibilities out around me. The mist lubricates my imagination.