Nov. 20th, 2016

Wet

Nov. 20th, 2016 12:00 am
rejectomorph: (hindenburg)
I just realized how late it is. The computer has been giving me a bad time for hours and I lost track.

It got windy last night, and clouds came in. By the time I woke up it was raining, and it has rained most of the time since. It might be easing up now.

I won't be going shopping tomorrow. It had to be put off until Monday due to transportation issues, and money issues. I had hoped a nephew who owed me some cash would cough it up, but he hasn't, so I won't be able to take advantage of all the Thanksgiving week sales. My diet will thus be minimal all next week.

Bugger.


Edit I was also hoping I could get this posted before midnight, but it was down to the wire and the wire decapitated me. This was Saturday's entry, not Sunday's.

Wet Again

Nov. 20th, 2016 06:37 pm
rejectomorph: (caillebotte_man at his window)
Again there has been rain all day, the gray sky merging with the dimmed landscape through small drops of water that shaded the distance to a haze which, now and then, was made to shimmer by some stray light that eased its way through the heavy clouds. Now that night has fallen, sight has given way to sound, and the spattering of raindrops briefly halted by yellowing leaves fills the darkness with monotonous music.

The music will fade away in time, and as this sort of late autumn storm brings no thunder the storm will die like someone dying alone in a dark room, their last rattle of breath unheard. By then I'm likely to be asleep, and will not know. The feral cats, trapped on the porch much of the day, will bear witness, and then go abroad to explore their soggy world. They will tell me nothing tomorrow when the sun returns to life.

But the grass will remember the rain in its fresh green burgeoning, and those shrubs that can do so this time of year will send out some new leaves. There will be reminders, but I don't know that I will notice them as such once they are here. The memory of this rain will wash over memories of past rains and be washed over by future rains in turn, There will be more rain this very week. A wet autumn, as I'd hoped. Something will grow, even if not I.


Sunday Verse )

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