It’s drizzling here in Edison. Water droplets whispering soft. Touching the leaves, but not staying there as yet. They dribble down, the small channels, following the path shown by the drooping leaves. The leaves bathe in green. The most beautiful, the most soothing green. Afar, through the half-opened blinds of my neighbor’s, dim light flows tenderly, warm streaks that smile, cheer, and illuminate. The sky has pulled its white blanket on. The sun is under, sleeping in bliss. The lonely potted green cabbage in my piazza is overjoyed, its leaves refusing to let go the many drops of water that came visiting. Stay, please, don’t just go away.