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Wednesday night.
It's been disappointing not having the pigeons wake me up anymore. The few of them that come around don't make much noise, either. I know they can take care of themselves fine, but I miss taking care of them a little bit.
It was another rainy day in the park, with few people around - yesterday really was that painter's last day to try to catch the cherry blossoms at the end of their moment. The ones that stay are stubborn, and their distinctive scent is faded, too. There were a few minutes late in the afternoon when the sky was nearly clear, just a few clouds, and the air made fresh by the rain earlier. I'd already gone out, so I didn't feel comfortable leaving my apartment again. Instead, I tried to take stock of the way light filtered through the clouds below the skyline of the buildings around me, diffusing somewhat in the late afternoon - a bright sky with soft light is a rare enough sight.
It was another rainy day in the park, with few people around - yesterday really was that painter's last day to try to catch the cherry blossoms at the end of their moment. The ones that stay are stubborn, and their distinctive scent is faded, too. There were a few minutes late in the afternoon when the sky was nearly clear, just a few clouds, and the air made fresh by the rain earlier. I'd already gone out, so I didn't feel comfortable leaving my apartment again. Instead, I tried to take stock of the way light filtered through the clouds below the skyline of the buildings around me, diffusing somewhat in the late afternoon - a bright sky with soft light is a rare enough sight.
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I dare not seek out the footage of wildlife retaking city streets. I might not be able to stop crying.
kerk