Sunday morning

Buckets of rain coming down, first slantwise, and now straight in big fat drops that are so thick that they blur the church across the street, and make a wonderful rain noise, even drowning out the dirge sound of the organ. I can, from my window, see a network of gutters that ultimately pour rain into the street four stories below. Wind too, and a few autumn leaves blowing around even, four and five stories above street level. Zinc roofs glisten.

But I would love to have a good long walk this afternoon, so I hope it dries up. There's a show I'd like to see at a gallery in the Marais.