Time Pleasantly Wasted

No thunderstorms yet, though the sky is overcast. The birds aren't letting a bit of gray sky shut them up. They are full of their morning cheer, and at least half as loud as a thunderstorm would be.

Oh, and I didn't get anything done last night because I watched three hours of Viva la BAM. Every once in a while, I simply must see mindless antics and mayhem that could easily end in severe injury or death for the participants. It's one of the things that compensates for the dullness of my inescapable daily routine. A Finnish guy buried up to his neck on a Mexican beach with the tide coming in, and then being dug out by a chubby passing middle-aged male European tourist wearing a thong is just as funny to me now as it would have been when I was ten years old. Such things simply weren't available in those days. I refuse to forgo them simply because I was born too soon.

When I wake up, I'll have to return to tedious seriousness, alas. It's the time of month when many things must be arranged and numerous extra tasks undertaken. And it's Wednesday, too.

Wet

It must have rained while I slept, but it had stopped early enough that the ground was dry by the time I woke. The leaves, though, were still beaded with drops which reflected the gray sky and the green land. A bumblebee flew from a bush, scattering bright droplets dislodged by its wings. Later, the rain returned and the pavement grew wet and shiny, and the bright calendulas were reflected in the asphalt as a blur of orange that made me imagine glowing embers behind black glass. That image had to substitute for a sunset which, once again, was prevented by the great density of the clouds. Since dusk, the rain has fallen steadily, its sound as bright and cheery as the bird songs which filled the dim evening. It will probably continue throughout the night, but thus far I have heard no thunder, not even from the mountains where it sometimes rumbles this time of year, distance turning its booms to something like the purring of a big cat.