dribble and dark
Dec. 7th, 2009 07:54 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
slowsculptureVegas winter officially began today, with the two advents sharing a day: People started to wonder out loud just this morning whether we might see some snow, this year; and in the early afternoon, the sky clouded over into an apocalyptic, sunless wad of dark, and started gushing down rain. This is one of those cities that doesn't know what to do with rain. The ride home was a slalom course of hazards, from puddles in the road where we just didn't think to put any kind of drainage, to lane dividers that are faint enough in broad daylight, and just vanish completely under a sheen of rainwater. It's the day when Vegas people start thinking that they really meant to replace their windshield wipers the last time it rained.
Boy, it's pretty, though. I'm so used to seeing these mountains in full sun that their silhouettes in black are startling. They look good. They look spooky.
It's also the day Aimee got back from her combined Christmas/Thanksgiving vacation, to see her family out in California. I got home from work planning to stay home, but when she called on a borrowed cell phone from the Greyhound station to ask if, just maybe, I just happened to be in that part of town and felt like picking her up before she walked all the way down to the bus stop on Charleston in the rain, I couldn't help feeling a little sorry for her. I sloshed my way downtown to the station to pick her up, and got to hear the latest about her folks, with an occasional glimpse in the rear view mirror of the strip, with that towering cloud of neon-lit rain hanging over it.
I don't expect to live here too much longer, but it sure is putting on a good show, while this lasts.
Boy, it's pretty, though. I'm so used to seeing these mountains in full sun that their silhouettes in black are startling. They look good. They look spooky.
It's also the day Aimee got back from her combined Christmas/Thanksgiving vacation, to see her family out in California. I got home from work planning to stay home, but when she called on a borrowed cell phone from the Greyhound station to ask if, just maybe, I just happened to be in that part of town and felt like picking her up before she walked all the way down to the bus stop on Charleston in the rain, I couldn't help feeling a little sorry for her. I sloshed my way downtown to the station to pick her up, and got to hear the latest about her folks, with an occasional glimpse in the rear view mirror of the strip, with that towering cloud of neon-lit rain hanging over it.
I don't expect to live here too much longer, but it sure is putting on a good show, while this lasts.