Lasana just sent me a note that said:
"It's raining in Chicago...
Dreary rain. Falling out of an endless expanse of gray sky. There are intermittent white holes of light scattered around. The whole thing looks like a gigantic silver and pale blue tarp that is faded and devoid of life."
Poets are always taking the weather so personally :)
I'm used to reporting the same thing from Portland but it's surprising sunny and clear today. Rain serves me best when I'm curled up in bed. I get my rain on demand here.
photo: weheartit
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