Wednesday, January 23, 2002

I decided a trip to the library was a necessity this afternoon, and the beautiful weather made driving with my truck windows rolled down quite an occasion. I had a list in my notebook of around 25 books I want to read, and our faithful library had three of them. I ended up getting Jitterbug Perfume by Tom Robbins (The Man), and The God of Small Things by Arundhati Roy. The clouds came out while I was in the library, dropping the temperature by about five degrees. Not yet ready to go home, I drove down to the lake and settled on one of the docks with Jitterbug Perfume, and just enjoyed the atmosphere of both scenery and book.



A small group of bugs who had somehow chosen my head as the temporary center of their society accompanied me on my way back to the truck, which was amusing because I had just been reading about a character with bees always swarming around his head. There was an electric energy to the air as I drove home, the feel of impending rain, which came slowly, assaulting my windshield in dime-sized splatters. Right now there is a marvelous pre-storm going on outside, with the occasional rumble of thunder or faraway flash of lightning, as iff the rain is still discussing its game plan. Ah, they seem to have all the details ironed out now, here they come. What a perfect day.

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