'59 Cadillac Fleetwood

A few hours after dark, after taking a three mile walk in today's ever so slightly lesser heat before sunset, a rain fell. It fell for about five minutes and it was wonderful. It is only the third such rain shower, all of around equal length, that I have seen since I arrived here more than two months ago. The entire state, and indeed a great deal of the country, is bone dry. A drought has been declared across most of the US, with temperatures breaking records here as much as the excessive rain is in Europe. Neither of these events are predictable or wanted. Where in the UK floods are becoming daily news, here we have fires, although luckily the scale of those seen in Colorado have not been repeated. It takes but one small spark for two houses to be engulfed and we are lucky that so far no such fire has spread further.

All that weather worry aside, I just want to see more rain. I want to go out and stand in the street and feel its chill again, after dark when there are no cars around and the heat of the day is still radiating from the road surface. Barefoot and still only in shorts, I want to feel the grit and crumbled dry leaves under my feet as the water pours from the sky. I want to feel that delicious shiver, when rain is surprisingly cool against bodies heated relentlessly, for so many days and so many nights.

It was a magical five minutes, a break in the oppressive heat of the past month.

Earlier in the day I cleaned seventy scans for artist Linda Sheets. On our surprising evening walk, surprising because it was the first time I have walked outside during daylight in over a month and because the temperature dropped just enough to make it possible, we passed this crusty and rusty '59 Cadillac Fleetwood. Up close it was in a worse state that we had realised, although nonetheless still beautiful.

Later I wrote about the disconnection between art and the public.

(11-0139-0139/1499)

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