in waves
Walked out in the downpour to pick up holds from the library – a biography of Walter Benjamin and Black Jacobins by C. L. R. James, neither of which I am likely to read at the moment but which did, however, give me a destination. Mostly I wanted to be out walking in the rain because of the rolling motion of the tree branches (heavy with yellow leaves, although the wind was working to lessen that burden and the topmost were nearly bare by the time I returned), which I could see outside the window and which beckoned me to pay attention to the passing of the seasons. At least I remembered to pack a plastic bag to keep the books dry on the way home.