It's almost not snowing.

Here's a lame poem I came up with on the bus ride this afternoon:

San Francisco: The giant oxymoron

The warm sun soaks through my jeans,
As I lean against the ice-cold bus wall,
my head raps violently against the vibration of double-layered windows.
The machine gun-like assault of ice pellets
clatter through the bright afternoon sun.
The clouds are rolling in. away. blue. gray.
Blond hair, blue eyed.
Black hair, brown eyed.
Pink purple blue green red bleached...
dreamy lost excited angry pathetic eyes
staring up at the bipolar sky.
Oh shit. It's hailing out there.

March 08, 2010. The day the sky went bazookers.

Today was, to put it simply, amazing.

I love the rain. Especially when I'm not caught in it.
What do I love more than the rain?

Oh HAIL yes. :]

Tiny pellets of ice, striking down from the sky.
Rather poetic, don't you think?

Today was literally sunshine one second, and pouring rain the next. In the afternoon, the rain turned into hail.

After I got home, I stuck my head out the window for quite a while, just enjoying the amazing freshness of after-rain air.
As if that wasn't enough, I packed my bag and went up to the roof.
I had a pleasant thirty seconds of peace before a sudden swarm of miniature hail chased me back indoors. What? I'm not that waterproof.

This is how the sky looked like outside of my house right after the sky's temper tantrum.

Too bad I don't have a better camera. It really was (and still is) a gorgeous scene.

I absolutely adore the sky. Every single time I lift my head, the sky astounds me with its breathtaking beauty.
It's so blue, so gray, so dark, so light. So peaceful, so wild, so pure, so convoluted...
It's me and everything I can't be.

Afterwards, the sun came out for one last epic battle before the clouds took over:

Right now, at the tranquil hour of seven before six, the sky is a soft lavender with gorgeous rolling clouds.

I would give everything I have just to become a bird and to feel the wind against every inch of my skin, or become a falling star and let the atmosphere set me alight as I rush through the weightless clouds.

I am so grateful for nature, yet so extremely bitter.

Why was I not borne with wings?

Well, now here I am. Indoors and staring at my computer, blogging. Perhaps nature just isn't my element, although I do love the sky to pieces.

Honestly speaking, I would murder the whole world for the power of flight. :)


Letter From the Sky - Civil Twilight