Waiting to cross the road in the rain / by daintydora

It's raining. And it's Sunday. And I found this observation I wrote a few years ago about waiting to cross the road in the rain. It feels very apt for today:

Leave the train station and hope the lights are red for cars, green for me.

They're not.

Stand, shift, put one foot into the road, puddle, taxi, step back. Want to cross. Not yet. Waiting. It doesn't normally take as long as this. Lights change. Car in the wrong lane. Buses don’t care. Crater in the street. Full. Murky waters splash.

Finally cross. Run. Dart. Skim across slippery pavements dirty with oil and the pollution of the city. Footprints washed away. No trace.

Another road to cross.

Lights change to green - for them. Waiting again.

Teetering off the kerb. Criss-cross of flagstones and paving, an expanse to cross, nearly there. Boots letting in. Soggy-sock-sensation. Quick strides. Scarf wet. Tendrils of hair on cheek. Glasses dotted with blur.

If only the lights had been on green.

I love it when you find something that you didn't even know you had, didn't even know you had written, or capture something that you didn't mean to. That's when the creative magic is truly at work.

Midnight in Paris

This image is from a trip to Paris last year, taken on the night of my birthday. As I pressed the button on my phone, two droplets of rain landed on my screen refracting the lights in an artful blur of colour which I couldn't have recreated if I tried.

The observation was in Glasgow. The image taken in Paris. Yet they fit together like a rain-soaked street.