things move around

Yesterday I walked home in bright sunshine and pouring rain. Two colossal rainbows bestrode the North Shore and the sky was a chaotic mashup of corn-yellow sun and clouds the colour of basalt. The rain looked like quicksilver as it splintered on the streets. In my umbrella, under my shades, I splashed my way from block to dazzling block until I stood wet-legged in my home, which was full of the warm khaki smell of fresh pea soup.