utter nonsense

Once, long ago, when I heard the sound of the rain coming down through the gutters, it sounded to me like bubbly water trickling across wonderful blue rocks.

You know, those blue rocks that are found in sea-side caves during certain tides?

The blue of the rock being dependant upon the presence of water?

The water definitely being sea water?

The sea water definitely being salty?

Ring a bell?

This, usually while waking up. My head fairly close to the window at the old, old, apartment. The window in question being quite close to the metal gutters. The watery, trinkle-y sound happening whenever it rained.

What I saw in my mind was so very stock footage 2002:

Zen: Four Rocks Arranged In A Non-Threatening Square

Sometimes, in the present day, as I make my way to the office, I'm refreshed by what feels like rain.

We all feel it. Especially if we are walking close to the sides of the buildings where a narrow band of shade gives one the illusion of a reprieve from the heat.

Of course, it's just water dripping down from millions of air conditioners from millions of floors above our heads.

Now, this is not technically weather.

And, the fact that such rain drops (any rain drops) hurtling down at us from miles above doen't kill us is curious, but I never bother to wonder about this.

Nor do I ever bother to wonder whether or not it is actually spit.

Yet, I do imagine such spitters as laughing at us from the safety of their ivory towers, where spitting down upon us is the only conclusion.

They do it because they can. They do it because they have to. They do it with mock regret, music blasting and probably martinis.

It's like these knotted up wads of money that I keep finding in the street. It's broad daylight but no one else ever notices this money but me.

I usually wait until I'm miles away in a taxi cab before I check to see how much money it really is.

I unfurl the found money one crinkly piece at a time.