I didn’t notice it peeping out from behind the apartment buildings as I walked home the other evening. My mind was preoccupied with weightier matters. If my coworker Bob always creates obstacles, I mused with the greatest of seriousness, can I call them Bobstacles? And if world politics is on a tragic trajectory, should I talk about its tragictory?

It wasn’t until I was trapped halfway along a sidewalk – blank wall on one side, busy road on the other –  that the cloud sprang out to unleash the full fury of a late summer downpour upon me. Before I’d as much as opened my umbrella, a good part of the water cycle had taken up residence in my clothing.

Later, as I stood barefoot by the sink, wringing the rain from my socks, I happened to glance out at the evening’s glorious finale. Everywhere, stretching off to the horizon, sparkling pools of gold reflected the brilliant glow of sunset. I reached for the notebook I keep by me at all times and struggled for words to capture the magnificence. The Shakespearean phrase “the gilded puddle,” bounced eagerly into my mind. Then I remembered that it was about horse pee, so it bounced right back out again.

Continue reading at : Amazed, Puzzled and Muddled by the Amazing Muddy Puddle