The rain today was like standing beneath some beautiful goddess as she showered in the shaking of Neptune's beard. When she herself wrung the excesses of water from her long, thick tresses, great bursts crashed to the earth mercilessly, dowsing and smothering all beneath. And when she stepped away clean, her body sparkled and its heat worked to dry us all in our own bath of golden light.

The kind of weather babies are made of.

Would be the season to stay inside, cozy and warm with another body worth the toying. Would be. I'm here alone trying to make love to this text book, my advances denied at every turn of silky smooth page.

On the other side of the window, trash cans rolled helplessly in pairs in the middle of the road. Their lids crashed-landed on somebody else's sidewalk. Random re-distribution. Community sharing, rotation. Except no one went out to save the cans from certain hit-and-run. Eventually I did, claiming two instead of the one that usually belongs to the house. Later, I gave one back to the street so someone else could claim it.

I like the darkness and having the lights on the middle of the day. But I miss the summer and those days of heat when Apollo's regular visits seduced and gave life. In my memories of it, I'm only in sunlight on a bike or at the ocean's ear or rolling up and down those hills in Seabeck in the Falcon. All gifts of love.