Day 1 (267): 1st of September
Quiet roar of cars on a morning street. Not so many that it makes a cacophonous backdrop; streets only slightly damp with the night's precipitation source the sound of the sporadic set of wheels, then echo it against the odd strain of a distant street musician and off myriad storefronts.
Day 2 (268): 2nd of September
Late night music wafting over the air and the sound of rain. The occasional frog squeak and dog bark add to the orchestration, but not even the usual chorus of house alarms and draconic water heaters dares ruin the soundtrack of a peaceful night.
Day 3 (269): 3rd of September
Acrid smell of wood stain battles with Midnight Dare and the shampoo in my hair. Even the familiar scent of Things Burning and Neighbours Cooking cannot overcome the much closer and more powerful malodourous chemicals now coating my porch roof.
Day 4 (270): 4th of September
Deep molasses of exhaustion turns muscles into sand; even facial muscles become heavy and difficult to control. Insomnia paired with the drone of planners attempting to put together lofty strategies with no regard for established requirements, force even the most dedicated and caffeinated meeting-goer to fight to not tumble face first out of the chair.
Day 5 (271): 5th of September
Fierce flavours of garlic, rosemary, pepper, and strangely enough a tiny bit of dill paint a colourful picture on the tastebuds. When added to mozzarella, tomato, and the juiciest sausage ever to grace the surface of a pizza, the effect is the kind of divine food-vana reminiscent of a religious experience localised in the mouth.
Day 6 (272): 6th of September
Dark clouds race from the north, threatening the busy weekend errand-doers. When the clouds open up, all senses are flooded (if one is brave enough to walk from the safety of the shop through the deluge with one's bags). Rain the perfect temperature, if a bit enthusiastic, smacks the skin and soaks the clothes; the taste of slightly contaminated precipitation slips into the corners of the mouth; the air takes on the distinct scent of dry earth and asphalt suddenly doused; with all other humans hiding under shelter, the only sound is that of thunderclaps and a great downpour on metal, cement, foliage, and flesh; nothing is more beautiful to witness than a massive storm, complete with great flashes of lightning.
Day 7 (273): 7th of September
Joy of lovely morning sun peering in through the gaps in the closed metal shutters hinting at a beautiful morning and fruitful day. Nothing can sully the view for the eyes of those determined to be content. Soft light, soft clouds, and clear air promise better times ahead.
Gratuitous black and white.
Lots to ponder. Apologies for the dramatic twist in tone, but sometimes these things happen when one's mind is occupied with a particular set of thoughts and that same mind is the kind to obsess and stew far beyond the point at which most sane human beings would move on.