Courtesy of MLusk, Weather Records

The rain this morning, the rain this morning came down in a great gauzy sheet.  I returned home after dropping the boy off to change from one rain jacket, the eccentric blue one with the stitched tears which makes me think of the Leonard Cohen song to another one, the stubborn and rubbery yellow one which makes me think of Gorton's Fish Sticks.  Returning to the deluge, or so I'd thought, finding the stream more a trickle, I didn't even unfurl the umbrella.  The walk, made unpleasant, only slightly, by the imperturbably nonporous nature of the gummy slicker, turned out to be a humid one, both within and without.  On the way, along the side street, the cobblestone one, behind the office, I saw a man scrubbing the sidewalk down with a bristly narrow push-broom, taking advantage of the precipitation to clean his bit of the pavement.  Next to him, cap open, a gallon of bleach.

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