The way the big towers in Midtown get tangled in the white smoke of a raining morning. The way the twin curves of that new building palm the sky like a child trying to catch the fog. The way the tops of the skyscrapers disappear into the clouds while, at the same time, patches of blue peek out like lakes in the white mountains of the sky. Imagine the tops of those buildings poking out the other side of the clouds, sticking out past the earth’s curve into the black, with the space shuttle passing by.

I like the rain.