
The rain stopped this evening, just in time for me to walk on the bike path to the bridge. This wooden bridge spans two little creeks where they join and flow on westward through my patch of suburbia. I figured out that when I have a few more minutes available than it takes to walk around the block, I can go on this more woodsy walk to the middle of the bridge and still be back in less than 15 minutes.
What got me excited was just the utter freshness of the air after days of steady rain, and getting to see the creeks fuller than usual. It’s interesting how one is so much muddier than the other. Many wonderful plant scents were in the cool and damp air, underneath the bolder smell of wood smoke.

Between my house and that bike path, one of my neighbors has my favorite color of daffodils blooming right now. Their faces were heavy with rain, so I had to stoop down to get a good view of their happiness.


so I had to hunt around to find out that he is a contemporary Korean. On his own website he writes something that I can relate to: “I long not to finish my life as a poet. In other words, I wish I could be a poem at the end of the poet.”
One friend said something about “the ions,” and online I found numerous articles about the “health benefits” of walking in the rain. Every article counted a different number of benefits, ranging from four to nine, one number per article, and that coordinated numbering was the most interesting thing about them.

