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brigdhNew York has been having record rainfall; it rained 25 days out of 30 in June. It seems to have finally stopped. This week, at least, has been more sunny than not, and the forecast holds out hope that such luck will continue. The sun seems surprising, or short-lived; I feel as though I shouldn't be inside. It's a feeling I get in late fall, sometimes, when you know there's only a few warm, bright days left before winter arrives, and full advantage should be taken of every one.
The sky is high and that particular shade of summer-time baby-blue, slightly paler around the horizon. There are no clouds to be seen. The grass and trees are every shade of living, growing green, from almost yellow to almost black, and everything in between. The light catches some of them, drops others into shade, increasing the number of greens. The tops of the trees look like brocade, the light and dark like a pattern. When the wind blows, the trees toss, and the light shafts below move, skimming across the leaves of bushes and ivy that grows on the ground.
And all these colors and shifting take place against the backdrop of New York's buildings: their still geometrical blocks in dark glass and and gray stone and shining metal, the straight lines of the roofs, sharp against the blue sky.
The sky is high and that particular shade of summer-time baby-blue, slightly paler around the horizon. There are no clouds to be seen. The grass and trees are every shade of living, growing green, from almost yellow to almost black, and everything in between. The light catches some of them, drops others into shade, increasing the number of greens. The tops of the trees look like brocade, the light and dark like a pattern. When the wind blows, the trees toss, and the light shafts below move, skimming across the leaves of bushes and ivy that grows on the ground.
And all these colors and shifting take place against the backdrop of New York's buildings: their still geometrical blocks in dark glass and and gray stone and shining metal, the straight lines of the roofs, sharp against the blue sky.
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Date: 2009-07-10 02:11 am (UTC)There is nothing like a perfect summer day.