Sea of Monsters

I like those pacific northwest days where moisture squeezes from every pore, lines every blade of grass, weighs down every rock and pine needle, clings to every molecule of sky; when rivers and streams and roads all run together as one silver ribbon, when the cloud-mists filter down through the treetops to mingle with gray woodsmoke as it rises over roofs and through evergreen needles. I like it wet, I like it green, I like it like that.