So last night a cold front rushed through. Heavy rain. Brief threat of swirlies. More rain. And colder air.
I cheered the loss of the pollen in the air last night. I bemoaned the loss of the warm air this morning. As usual, I stand alone in preferring the pollen to the cold.
The Neti pot takes care of the pollen, but does little for the cold.
So I take an early morning jaunt to fetch some coffee. 57 degrees. Think sweater.
Along the way, I noticed the bud on the climbing rose that I'd been watching through the past week had opened while I was in DC.
After I fetched the coffee, it started raining. Great. I have no hat.
But I did find what I expected to see everywhere.
A puddle with pollen by the edges. I suppose it rained so hard last night that most of the pollen went down the storm drains. I did not see one dried puddle with a pollen ring, not unti the rain returned.
OK, so I'm cold. I'm wet. If I could just be hungry, I could be perfectly miserable. Surely, there's a deity somewhere who could help me out here.
A few more steps down the road, I see a series of lumps in my lane. A man grabbing something metal from the lane, and running to his small truck.
A driver from Neomonde has lost a bit of his load of pita bread.
I draw closer and grab a few bags, hold them up, ask if he needs help gathering them, and he waves some kind of "no," driving away.
A pickup driver showed annoyance at my standing in the street.
I gathered up a few more bags of pita, ad much as I could easily carry in one hand, and headed home.
Only one was whole wheat.
Maybe I should return for more, but be more selective in my gleaning.
Meanwhile, it stopped raining when I reached home. The sun popped out, and the sky turned blue. My sweater and pants are hung on a chair to dry.
Some deities have the devil's own time getting with the program.
Location:Westgrove St,Raleigh,United States