the weather

living for four years in a secluded hilltop town in upstate new york i learned to hate it awful much. the icy snow storms that would spring out of nowhere and relentlessly hail upon you without end and then fitfully change into humid summer without a hint of transition--those were the worst. today on the west coast i felt, for the first time in a while, what it meant for the sky to be pregnant with weather. the first phase of the gestation the stucco sides of buildings bore an eerily rosy cast. the second phase the sun signaled red in an lavender sky over a long line of unquiet cars. 3 traffic skirmishes were narrowly avoided. gradually the clouds rolled in until, with a sudden hush, the sun had set well before its regular hour of 8:45 pm. the storm never broke, but it sank down upon the rooftops like a rounded weight sinking into the curved fabric of the universe. we held our breaths.

on other news, i found the most awesome used book store 5 miles away from mi casa today, and i also took a really gratifying polaroid. small victories, small victories.