As I was leaving work today it began to rain. Drizzle. Which is a big pain in the ass when you drive a scooter, as I do. But the pain of a light smackling of drops on your face is nothing compared to what happened midway home. With a mile left to go, it began to hail. Or something like that. I'm not sure if hail would be the precise term a meteorologist would define it, but it was icy and hard and falling like pellets. I call that hail.
The hail already falling to earth at a slight northeasterly fashion at a slow speed takes on a special force when you travel at 30 mph southwesterly to meet it with your Honda Metropolitan. I'm shivering (from both the temperature and fear as being in traffic during a hail storm in L.A. on a bike is far from the bosom of safety your mother preached so often). The hail is pelting me on my frozen face. My yoga pants are completely soaked. And I'm thinking, "What the hell am I doing?" And the question was not just in relation to the moment in question.
Being stuck in a situation which is uncomfortable brings up questions of with what degree of certainty do I have making the life decisions which brought me to this pass are the right ones? But as I skirted home bypassing SUVs and coupes, ran through the door eschewing wet clothes and jumping into a warm shower and then diving into the covers for a midday nap, all uncertainty eased from my body and my steadfastness to my course returned.
(About the photo: I had taken several shots of the tree and this shot came to me last. I only took one exposure, making sure I underexposed to capture detail in the sky. This shot became my favorite of the day.)
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