“take my hand and lead me through the crowds to find green grass / always is today”1
there was a torrential downpour earlier this afternoon. it positively poured. there was a crack of thunder so loud it seemed that the lightning must be right down the street. i was sitting in the covered patio of a neighborhood bar, noticing people — either drenched or on the way to being drenched — admiring the rain. the rain offered a respite from the hot and muggy afternoon, the rain stunned us. the rain disrupted. what a rush. the drops slammed into the fiberglass roof of the covered patio.
the smoke from the canadian wildfires returned this week, there’s no end in sight to the fire or its smoke. it’s crossed the altantic ocean. the planet won’t let us forget that it’s burning. an earlier definition of ‘crisis’ was ‘decision point.’ i am still forgetting, though there are so many reasons for alarm. the color of the aqi index is red, orange, yellow. “unhealthy” “unhealthy for sensitive groups” “moderate.”
after the summer shower earlier, the air felt washed. transient relief, momentary refuge. for those moments we were new, open. the post pour porosity. july so far gray, and quiet. people in july so far, funny and shining.
the plants grow tall and long in the rain. together they wash the air.
KD ↩