I am home alone on this rainy Saturday. I sit facing the wide glass door with the blinds open so I can see the thin, misty rain come down on the grass. It is incredibly precise, somehow; I think of the cold water outside and the hot steam curling from the coffee cup at my side.
I may be the only person in this lonely landscape of grass and wind and glass and rain. I can liken it to standing on the edge of an empty pier with the sea and sky open in front of me.
September 2002, Florida
I may be the only person in this lonely landscape of grass and wind and glass and rain. I can liken it to standing on the edge of an empty pier with the sea and sky open in front of me.
September 2002, Florida
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