I have some pictures taken before the rainstorm this week. Clouds piled up overhead as Rusty and I headed to a nearby trail. The air was heavy and humid, I was cranking the air conditioning in the car.
Feels like summer I thought to myself. That's the time of year when sudden rain falls out of the sky and drenches anything underneath it. A short while later the rain stops and the sun comes out and steam rises everywhere and your glasses get frosty. It felt like that when Rusty and I hit the trail.
My wife came here recently and was accosted by passing cyclists and not feeling like diving in the bushes to stay socially distant she decided that in the time of plague a narrow trail is too narrow for someone with a compromised immune system. Indeed, Rusty and I got strafed by a considerate but silent cyclist on our visit. The corornavirus is pushing people who have zero curiosity in normal times to stretch their boundaries and find lonely places to exercise. Very good for them no doubt but I am not used to sharing featureless mangrove trails with strangers.
The trail was powdery dry reminding me of a summer path in California where dust and dead grass line the trails.
Leaves are falling everywhere as though it were Fall in New England.
My pursuit of Edward Weston is hopeless nut a close up of a palm frond is my substitute for a cabbage. If the corornavirus lock down lasts long enough I shall be forced to photograph household objects in pursuit of Art. I hope that day never comes.
Eventually we drove home, Rusty panting and me wondering how to justify another roll of digital pictures on this web page. And then summer arrived in the Keys.
Lots of lovely cold wet rain. Everything perked up. Even me as I knew it would pass soon enough, but not so soon that my car didn't look shiny and dust free for a modest twenty four hours. All things shall pass be they drought or virus.