Rain.
Yesterday evening was a blessed, warm time. The sun came out, and the only clouds followed the sun's descent below the West Hills.
From my apartment window, the sunset looked manufactured, it was so beautiful.
I climbed out onto our back fire escape, out through our kitchen window, with the portable phone.
Talking to Amy, watching the colors bleed into the sky.
At first, the sky was still blue, and the sunset was a mere pinprick.
But by the time the sun escaped toward the Pacific islands, every cloud in the sky--from the cotton-like ones huddling toward the sun for warmth to the silken wisps over my head--every cloud was painted.
It was quite a sight.
Then we went out for a beer up the street, and we all laughed a lot.
I honestly think the sunset restored some laughter to me, and without it, I would have had a good night, but not a great one.
Twenty-four isn't so bad after all.
