A big rain

It had been raining hard, in bursts all day. The noise of cars on the road below the house was different. The movements of people were also different from the days before. However, the bakery in front of the house, specializing in very high butter bread, had had the usual small queues of customers, all with umbrellas.

The sea behind the bakery had remained gray all day. The street below the house filled and emptied with cars at an irregular pace, with no apparent relation to the traffic light just beyond. The pair of kittens that had emerged from a garage full of chaos the day before must have been holed up all day.

While I was working, I had been following the progress of the day from my desk overlooking the very window that filled the apartment with light. Every now and then I would open one of the sliding doors a few inches to let the sounds in.

After dark, which had come early as usual, everything had calmed down. No more rain, smooth puddles, no wind. So, I took advantage of a sudden urge to mochi to take a long walk around the neighborhood. I also find a bakery, which would close shortly thereafter.

It is when I pass behind the lighted restaurant that I think for the umpteenth time that I really like photographing at night. It must be because, I tell myself, of the way things stand out, because the lights compose scenes. That all that blackness around puts an expected tranquility in me, a grateful serenity.