so far, it has been a wet summer. this afternoon, the rain was again torrential and greens freshly burgeoned in the plant boxes in front of the latino rotisserie chicken place were all washed out into the road gutter. the downpour ceased by the time my takeout was ready. two toddlers, still in their blinding yellow slickers, rushed headlong towards me as i was leaving. their mother nowhere in sight. i managed to hold on fast to my dinner but not to a crisp curse.
you know that warm exhale of the earth after a rainfall? and what was it again that montaigne said about this world filled with thorns? and that the only remedy he knows of is to tend to one’s own garden?