The tree bark is almost as black as the asphalt. Where they reach into the puffy, gray sky, more naked branches, limbs, and twigs of the white oak are visible in the tops of the trees. The ultra-green of the pine needles glows when compared to the trunks. The vinca blossoms are purpler, the fallen leaves burnt orange instead of dry, dull brown. The tiny, dripping leaves of the boxwoods seemed livelier, and the dormant grass, a warmer shade of beige.I first felt this shift, this different realm, as a child. I pulled my mother outside and said, "Look how different everything is!"
"It's just wet, honey," she said and went back inside the house.She didn't see. Confounded by her reaction, I focused harder, trying to see the world as it had been when dry. I couldn't. I never have been able to, and I wonder how anyone with eyes can.