I have some leftover stuff for sale. Check out the tag sale page!
As work wrapped up tonight and I stepped out the door I barely felt the rain on my hands. I didn’t care if I got wet. I was on my way home and the thumps of water were the same temp as my skin and the air outside and reminded me of something deep in my memory. I should have explored that thought when I had it.
My commute is pretty short. About ‘half a mile or so by my eye. I settle in just past Final Cut (our video store) and cruise along in second gear at 1200 rpm discreetly watching all the people. In a big city the ghetto may be several miles square but here it’s the second floor of one building and another house a couple of blocks away but I drive by one place and get the nod from the kid out front. I’m cool.
When I make the last turn into my driveway all of 12 mins later, I gradually slow way down to allow the jeep to sway back and forth at just the right speed where the dog can keep his balance, I make the tight right into my parking and allow my tires to roll right into the same spot I always do. I don’t really have to steer.
The rain began to come down hard and by the time I walked around back to open the door on the jeep I felt more like crawling in back than coaxing the dog out. So I did. Truck beds aren’t as comfortable as they used to be (according to my memory) but I found a spot that was OK to start.
I picked up a favorite book by Samuel Abt, that happened to be in my pile of “things to go home” and propped myself across the threshold. I pressed my shoes against the far wall and lifted myself long enough to jam a grease stained hoodie under my ass for some insulation from the truck bed. I squirmed to find comfort as I watched as all the colors and textures changed from vivid to muddled as the storm quickly reached it’s crescendo. I notice the air become cool and dry which was odd. In all it’s grandeur, through thunder and downpour small birds played in the searing rain with no fear while motorists were forced to the side of the road, wipers flailing but completely overwhelmed.
At this time of year we see a lot of things we hadn’t seen since last spring. In my part of town the trees grow so thick they blot out the sun and what were turbulent icy waters a couple of weeks ago are gentle flowing trout streams this week.
Here are a few photos to enjoy.