May 18th, 2005

caillebotte_the balcony

Still Wet

Morning is dim. The rain has continued all night. Even though I no longer need to keep the room cold for Sluggo (how peacefully he sleeps- you'd never know what an evil little bastard he is), I have kept the windows open so I could listen to the small drops, which sound like grains of sand falling on paper. And, though the rain has put an early end to the delightful presence of that fragrance which so enlivened the warm air a few days ago, I have ample compensation in this freshness which now floods the room. Despite the lack of thunder, the air is electric and invigorating, yet also distracting, pulling my attention from ordinary tasks and setting my thoughts adrift, flowing on the spring freshets which I hear gathering at the road verge. Half the night I have spent imagining rivers and bays and the ocean. My mind is as sodden and mushy as the local soil.

It is unlikely that this storm, or any other likely to arrive this season, will bring snow. The latest snowfall I have ever experienced here was that of a few weeks ago. Here is a picture of my street on the afternoon of that day, when the sun had emerged and the snow was rapidly melting.

Late Snow
Late Snow

Snow fell here in the second week of April, which is unusually late. The afternoon sun emerged almost as soon as the snowfall ended, and this was the scene of melting that resulted.

As always, click the picture for a larger (then even larger yet) version.

I was surprised to discover, after I had uploaded it, that the picture I posted yesterday afternoon was more than 1MB. This one is abut 1.2MB. Yikes! I don't know when Fuji began providing such large files on their photo CDs. Those I was getting a couple of years ago seldom had a file size of more than 300KB. I'm going to have to start re-sizing the pictures I upload, or my 100MB of storage space will be used up before I know it.


There has been a third day of rain, and still I am not displeased. When I woke this afternoon, the light was so dim that even though my clock said 2:30, I was sure that it was almost dusk and that the power had been off for several hours. But I was mistaken. The clock was correct. The dimness was merely because the clouds were so thick that only a dusky light could penetrate their vaporous mass. Later, the day brightened a bit, the rain diminished for a while, the clouds dropped lower, and the swaying tops of the windblown trees were wreathed in drifting fog, becoming so vague that they seemed no more than shadows of trees, inexplicably cast upward onto a pearl-gray sky. Rain soon began falling again, and has remained quick and steady for hours. I do not expect to hear crickets tonight, nor is it likely that I will see the moon. No matter. The air is milder than it was last night, and I feel no discomfort at its touch, so, with windows thrown wide, I listen to the steady splattering, and the gurgle of the drain pipe, and (faintly) the drumming on the roof. The coming summer (little more than a month away!) will bring no pleasures such as this. I will enjoy it while I may.