Stormy weather

Talk about rain!  For the past couple of weeks we’ve experienced a shifting canvass of not only horridly hot, humid sunny days but also brilliantly cool, arid autumnal weather preceding torrential rains, rain which punishes the apartment windows, rain which drives hard upon the car windshield amid the mist and fog, rain which blusters the sheers and saturates the air, rain that glistens the roadways and parking lots, rain which cloaks the verdant fields revealing sparkling emerald gems.

Today by chance I listened to Lena Horne sing Stormy Weather.

Stormy Weather is a 1957 studio album by Lena Horne, released by RCA Victor in monophonic. Recording took place between March 1956 and March 1957, at Webster Hall, New York.

While the rainy weather subdues our constitutional bicycle ride, it affords no metaphor for matters of the heart. Indeed if I were to venture an observation it would be a smug assertion of compatibility and appreciation. And before I wipe the smile from my face, permit me further to extoll what is unquestionably a pleasing overall manifestation of life. We foregathered at the remote end of the dining table late this morning to review matters of less heady interest; viz., the sustenance and transport of our material being. The vulgar subject did not however diminish our collective gusto. Instead it merely clarified the air, removing the Scotch mist from our otherwise fortuitous transaction with fate. The stormy weather but lustrates what follows.

It has I confess taken me seventy years to distill the favourable vapours from the dregs. The dialectic assessment has nonetheless multiple dimensions. Even one’s less compelling moments account for part of the ensuing thread. How often I have proclaimed my unwillingness to revert anything that has transpired! The conglomerate is through whatever peril or desire the ingredients of the whole. Like a snail within its shell I have thus girded myself with the armour of verisimilitude.