Nothing but gray skies
Monroe Avenue is Rochester's most typical setting, and, in winter, gray its most typical color, especially now that the snow has melted (it will be back though, I'm sure). During our daily trip to the Y this afternoon, I snuck outside a few minutes early while Allison was finishing up her Bodypump class. I was hoping to get an interesting picture or two before heading back to the house, but my senses felt immediately blunted by the gray, gray, gray. Streets, sidewalks, sky—all gray. I am already beginning to worry that the palette here is too monotonous, and yet I am committed to my subject matter. Why should I only take pictures when I travel and the scenery changes every day? I am in Rochester now, and this is what it looks like. My parents have lived in the same house for 30 years. Thirty consecutive winters under these relentlessly gray skies ...
Allison and I, on the other hand, are already fantasizing about a quick trip to Puerto Rico before our trip to Asia. It's
8o degrees and sunny right now in the Caribbean. I heard the Puerto Rican economy is collapsing and its government is deeply in debt to U.S. hedge funds, but I don't think that will deter us. It probably just means Puerto Rico is ahead of the curve (unless Bernie gets elected, of course).
But I'm sure there are occasional gray days in the Caribbean too. And before I romanticize Asia too much in my mind, it's worth remembering that China also has some of the most relentlessly gray skies I've ever seen. They probably just seemed more interesting because they're on the other side of the world.