A dark, gray, rainy day produces colors that don’t come out when it’s sunny. On a front porch in a cheerless corner, a worn leather coat hangs sadly over the back of an old chair; dirty white paint peels down the legs to reveal vermilion streaks like dried blood, glimpses of an earlier, less subdued era.

The world outside is cool, wet, shiny. Open a window and the damp rushes over your hands, across your face, smelling at once like rose petals and the black wormy soil beneath an overturned brick. A rich, green light reflects from the canopy above; heavy leaves weep. Water patters an irregular drumbeat at the bottom of a downspout and empties onto an ancient stone path, green and slippery with moss.

Category: Stuff   Tags: duck, rain