Intangible Grey

One step further, another picture.  A street ballet, of sorts, with a suburban soundtrack.  A poetry of space and light in an everyday world.  

Or simply another mundane snapshot of nothing.  

Whatever.  I like it.  

I just made a long diatribe against the adult mania for Halloween.  It's been going on for months, it seems, twenty foot skeletons and little robotic monsters in neighborhoods around town.  Obviously some pathology in our social psyche. . . but I did you a favor.  

Delete.  

Without much else to say.  Can't think of a thing.  The drizzling rain continues, a softness of intangible grey.  Rods rather than cones.  You know what I mean.  

Maybe I'll buy a rain jacket today--if one is on sale.  I don't have a rain jacket.  Long ago I did when I was constantly in nature, hiking, climbing, but the GoreTex peeled away for some reason and I have never replaced it.  I am not cheap really, but a rain jacket is something I can most times do without.  There are more exciting things on which to spend my money, less practical things.  Yea. . . I probably won't buy one.  I have a poncho somewhere that cost a couple bucks.  I don't think I've ever used it, but it should be fine.  

I really have nothing to write today which means nothing really bad is happening or on my mind, and that's o.k.  

Oh, my--I just remember what I had planned on writing today.  NYC and women.  Yes.  I'll have to save that until tomorrow or later.  I have not pulled together the photos yet.  Just a few.  But I've been sitting here writing and deleting for an hour, and now it is time to prepare breakfast for my mother.  

It's all good.