June 11, 2012
And when I woke, by some miracle the sun was shining. But the operant word here is “was”. Before I can breakfast and get out to enjoy it, but after I have optimistically done my handwash and hung it out the window on the line, the skies open to a deluge. Ah, well. I have a happy morning harmonizing the melody of my first composition of this trip and finally, shivering, brave the elements to hike to the shopping center nearby to buy a warm sweater that zips up to my chin, leggings, and socks. In Rio. Really. But I’ve been here a week already so hopes for a heatwave are dimming. And I’m standing in line behind German tourists in flipflops doing the same thing. Thank goodness weather is secondary to my purposes for being here. I also eat a hot meal in a self-serve restaurant, wintery things like stew and rice & beans. Yes, I am giving in to reality. No matter how many trips I have had no use for the warm clothes I brought “just in case,” this one is the exception to the rule. Tomorrow I will find something colorful to photograph I promise, hopefully some flowers although they all seem to be hunkering down to keep out of the rain. But if I take any more shots of clouds and fog I’m going to have to forsake Choro for some most-un-Rio-like philosophical haiku, in honor of Han-Shan, the Japanese bard of Cold Mountain.