Delightfully Damp

The fine mist which began to fall last evening has continued all night, and the sound of accumulated water dripping from the tall pines punctuates the stillness of grey morning twilight. So fine is this mist that I can barely feel the drops as they settle on my face. Yet, so abundant are they, that a walk of a few moments leaves my skin and hair and clothing perceptibly damp. I would like to walk for hours in this freshness, listening to the dripping and to my own footsteps along the deserted streets and paths.

Brrr

There might be snow at this elevation tonight, according to weather reports. I don't know. To me, it doesn't feel quite cold enough. If it does snow, well, rats! The first blossoms have appeared on the cherry tree. That isn't good.

Now I must go sit in front of the television and keep warm. I think I'll put a cat on my feet.