This is the first in what is hopefully a series of writings about photographs that I take. They may be non-fiction or *gasp* I may even try to venture into the land of fiction. I’ve always been interested by short stories, so maaaaybe some of those will shope up. We shall see. Even if they do show up, I’m sure they won’t be very good. I really like the rain. Pouring rain, light rain, really any kind. I love sitting out on my porch during a thunderstorm, even though that doesnt work quite as well here. My favorite type of rain, at least for now, is a cold steady drizzle. Temperature in the 40s, no leaves on the trees, just grey and gross all over. It always reminds me of this Emerson quote, which Ive felt as well:
Crossing a bare common, in snow puddles, at twilight, under a clouded sky, without having in my thoughts any occurrence of special good fortune, I have enjoyed a perfect exhilaration.
But right now, thats not what we have. Spring rain in North Carolina is cool but humid. It provides a strange combination: you’re cool walking through the rain or when the window is open, but when you walk through it you always end up hot and sweaty. Its strange, but I like it. Perhaps I’ll end up like that character from Douglas Adams’ So Long and Thanks for All the Fish, Rob McKenna, who catalogs all the different kinds of rain he encounters because he is, unknowingly, a minor rain god. Or perhaps not.