it rains in kyoto

it's not this winter rain that i think of in san francisco, where everything suddenly turns cold, low contrast and monochromatic. it's not the 'never rains in southern california' los angeles rain either, which would be nondescript, if it weren't for the fact that there are a lot of starving writers living in l.a., getting heady from the liquid smog.

kyoto's rain gives it that picturesque, lush green beautifulness of kurosawa scenes and zen monks sitting in gardens. kyoto's rain is also a torrential downpour. morton's salt slogans come to mind. noah himself would start to show a little bit of concern, absentmindedly petting the head of one or two dogs that he had running around.

kyoto rain signals the beginning of the monsoon season and the busby berkeley months of boys on bicycles dancing around eachother underneath their black, pink, blue or green umbrellas.

i love rainy winters in san francisco. i wouldn't say that i want an ever-present winter, like london, with the cold and grey sitting next to me in all its shivering glory as i nurse my pint of lager. but i welcome the rain as it washes the crap off of the sidewalks and dilutes it into the terrifyingly toxic san francisco bay.

for a moment there, everything seems pretty cozy.

<12.12.03>

 

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