as forecast the rain, a drop of 15 degrees overnight, so 19, 31 and 16 the last three days, the mad dance of spring ... another blipday foretold and foreshortened by the rabbithole and the various incarnations of the past, a restlessness... walking through the clearing up of the morning market, thoughts of a bike ride washed away in the flood, an umbrella which would have been a parasol 24 hours earlier...

2019 continuing, although in part possessed by the spirit of 1929 i think,