Rain Drops Keep Falling on My Head

July 28, 2009

I just tried to write on our balcony.  It was sort of picturesque–shades of gray stretching across the greenish mountains.  The air seemed saturated, but the clouds hadn’t burst yet, and I was thinking maybe they would hold.  Perhaps they would swallow their moisture and move on, dissipate back to wherever they gathered from.

Then there were thin slashes of droplets that dashed across my computer screen (no more ants at least) and the clouds broke apart, an egg cracking, the fragile shell a mess of white shards.  The droplets are now coming down hard and heavy, each their own yoke (though thankfully not so viscous or staining) a world away from the sunshine we savored on our walk home from school.

We’re hoping to escape Rio this weekend, to take a bus to Buzios and at least see some different scenery beneath the gray, and maybe even a sliver of sunlight here or there.

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