Yes, it rains here. A lot. The humidity soaks through your clothes and chills you to the bone sometimes. If you hug a thermos of hot lemon, honey and ginger water, you manage to put up with it quite nicely. You can wish for sunny skies, but you'd miss out on the earthy, greyed out, mossy log kind of scents that envelope you when you walk around a foggy lake. You can remember Miami streets peppered with colour, language and song, but don't forget the soft, subtle and gentle ground below your feet and sweet morning birds of your own home town.
The days when the cadmium giant does shine down upon this incredible land are also breathtaking. Maybe because they are more rare, maybe because the light is more crisp and clear than down south. There are a thousand maybes why it so, but you will not find a place like this elsewhere. Breathe in the sharp morning air until your lungs tingle and your nostrils burn in anticipation of the next inhale. Let the sun make it seem it's pink beyond your closed eyelids. Touch the dew covered grass with your naked, cold fingertips. And finally, listen to the delicious sounds around you with every cell of your miniature hair covered ears. For days like this make the moss on the sidewalk look magical.
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