a morning of drizzle

Black umbrellas belong elsewhere. In France, maybe. Yes, of course they do. Remember how deliciously moody they were back in my Normandy posts?

Madison is not – should not be – a black umbrella kind of town. It’s not that we’re a gaudy city. But we are quite preoccupied with our weather issues and it’s bad enough that we have to deal with an unreasonably long winter. We don’t also have to pander to the somber mood of a drizzly kind of day. Weather cannot control that much of our emotional space.

I walked up Bascom Hill and I noted with pleasure that a number of students resisted the black and chose, instead, to walk under patterns of lilac flowers or crimson stripes with badgers gallivanting across the surface. Umbrellas with attitude. The black ones? Do me a favor: toss them aside and start again. (Though I love the "flip flops in any weather" trend. I bet it'll stick through at least Thanksgiving.)



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