Lately I find I haven’t got much to say. Partly I blame the weather. We’ve entered the rainy season, aka winter.
It’s dreary grey, coldish, dampish, darkish. Wet.
The rain shuffles in – a distant roar, gaining volume and momentum as it thunders down on the coloursteel roof, pelting the windows and somehow, my heart.
When it passes, there is the drip drip drip off the eaves – Chinese water torture. The house is damp, dampening my bones and my flesh and my spirit. 94% humidity – how much oxygen is left in the air? If breathing is hard, thinking is harder.
“There are only two mantras, yum and yuck, mine is yum.”
— Tom Robbins, Still Life With Woodpecker
Somewhere in the world, right now, there is a perfect sunset.