Runoff

A sopping wet day in Chicago. Winter took the day off, obliterating the grimy piles of snow that lingered for the duration of the first deep freeze. Walking home tonight I didn’t even need my coat. It’s practically sultry. I even got my key to turn in the front gate after two weeks of having to use my building’s back entrance. I love taking walks on days like this when so much moisture ssetles back into the earth. I have a thing for drainage, runoff, skirting the puddles, minding the paths worn in the snow, those invisible shifts to ice or slush. I like the patterns of exhaust and tire treads on white, the filthy gray crusts plastered to the curbs by snowplows.

On this strictly imitation spring day I just feel dehydrated, after an unantcipated season of Great Sex. Funny, I thought being in grad school would mean having little or none. What a relief that isn't the case.