Rain
I spent the past weekend in the sweltering mix of heat, humidity and pollution. This afternoon after a day of being packed into a small space with what seemed to be half the Korean population in order to view a smattering of pieces from the British Museum, I stepped out of the subway station to the first rain I've seen in more weeks thn I can count. There's something about rain at night in the city. I don't know if it's the quiet woosh that accompanies the otherwise annoying noise of traffic, the shimmering glint of headlights on the pavement or the camaraderie that exists among the pedestrian who are simply trying to stay dry.
I hadn't planned on rain and thus had a 15-minute walk home from the subway station in the rain with no umbrella. As one that has on numerous occasions walked from a cool, dry house into a summer rain-shower, I made the most of it. I stopped briefly to get a Falafel to go and enjoyed the light rain as I walked up the hill to my apartment. I tried not to think of what the water that occasionally flowed over my sandals and onto my feet carried. I deemed it more productive to think of the grime it wash washing away.
Upon arriving home I changed into dry clothes, opened a bottle of Smoking Loon Viognier and ate my falafel. Simple pleasures should not be underrated.
I hadn't planned on rain and thus had a 15-minute walk home from the subway station in the rain with no umbrella. As one that has on numerous occasions walked from a cool, dry house into a summer rain-shower, I made the most of it. I stopped briefly to get a Falafel to go and enjoyed the light rain as I walked up the hill to my apartment. I tried not to think of what the water that occasionally flowed over my sandals and onto my feet carried. I deemed it more productive to think of the grime it wash washing away.
Upon arriving home I changed into dry clothes, opened a bottle of Smoking Loon Viognier and ate my falafel. Simple pleasures should not be underrated.