This is the National Cathedral from Kilbourne Pl NW. All morning we had snow and all afternoon it rained lightly. My brother-in-law from England, Brian, would like this weather. He lived with my sister in Los Angeles for about a decade. They just recently moved to Eugene, Ore. He never liked the heat in L.A. I bet they're having similar weather to the District now, or better yet ... worst! There is something the English appreciate about being in an uncomfortable or harsh environment. The constant drizzling rain. I like rain. I like sun too.
[When I'm on the street and it's raining and the wind is blowing I can imagine myself on a ship in the middle of a dark and stormy ocean. Or I'm running down an unknown path in the middle of the night dodging lightning. I guess you could even include something like hiking 30-some miles through a gassy wetlands carrying everything you need to survive, and all the water tastes like cow crap ... and maybe there was a thunderstorm earlier too. Anyway, my point is how does the guy react when a drink spills on him at a party? It's the people who figure, "Already wet, may as well jump in the swimming pool," who make life. Like England and its gloomy fog, the Middle East and its arid land, Los Angeles and plastic surgery ... ]
