I know I’ve just written about a rainstorm, but I’m very tired and the cloud bursts that hit the city tonight were the most stunning events of the day. 

I stood on the corner of 84th and Columbus under the green canopy of a grocery deli while the rain lashed down in heavy whipping blasts. It was dusk and the sky was purple with dark heavy clouds. I was waiting for my wife as she drove into the city to meet me and I was caught for fifteen minutes between the stunning beauty of the rain and the lightning and the thunder and my fear that something would happen to my wife on the West Side Highway. People ran by bare headed and soaked and smiling from the excitement while I stood quietly with my wonder and my worries. 

So much of my life is like this now; watching the swift passing of something lovely while my heart is troubled with some other need. It’s like putting my hand out to touch the textured surface of some passing building or let my eyes rest on the bright bouquets that line the corner stores in the city even as I’m hustling to the next urgency. 

It’s like being on the verge of sleep and having a thought tug on your sleeve like a child asking to play when you’re exhausted.