Revisiting some posts from 10 years of Only A Blockhead
A gusty wind roars up the valley, twisting the trees and bending the bamboo. The spider webs under the eaves and in the garden hang in tatters. A fine, dense rain falls, then is whipped and carried by the storm. Clouds barely visible, gray upon gray, scud low and fast. The house sweats and creaks, wind rattling the windows and moaning through the cracks. Every now and then a chorus of frogs croaks in the orchard. Crows, flying at the mercy of the wind, complain.
(White Rain at Shono by Hiroshige, Metropolitan Museum of Art via Wikimedia Commons)
This is either terrible weather, not fit to be gone out in. Or it’s wrap up and head out to join the excitement.
--Julian
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