Somewhere — Tonight is as rainy and dark and humid, as last night was clear. I can’t seem to mind. There is something about this weather that lets my soul stretch out and rest. There is space for that in melancholic weathers like this.
Rome — Long time ago there were people who could fix broken umbrellas. Now, as soon as they break, they are thrown away on the street. After a big storm you can see them at the side of the streets, half open...
Berkeley — My guide had an interview. Some intensely Berkeley-sounding interview: with a high-achieving, world-travelled, meeting-the-world-again-after-his-accident professor. Out of my league. I helped her pick...
San francisco — For a few weeks, it seemed San Francisco had forgotten how to winter. While the rest of the country shivered through polar vortices, we found ourselves prancing around parks in our tank tops, complain...
Day 22 #100happydays: Rain
My guide had an interview. Some intensely Berkeley-sounding interview...
A gray morning in the fall
We started the walk in bright sun and a light breeze. I convinced myself that the dark clouds in the distance were blowing away from us. I was wrong. Wet dog, wet human.
Another rainy day and maybe something else
Rainy park day
Rain
Grey skies and a lot of optimism
Escaping from beneath the rock.
Broken umbrellas after the storm remind me how fragile and generous object can be.
After monsoon rain through night, people queuing for start of 10k run.
Love in June is a mom waiting outside the station exit with an umbrella.
Tokyo rule: Broken umbrellas are buried in shallow graves.