Grey, Heavy, Still

The air is as thick as oatmeal and flat calm. It's been a day with no sunlight. A storm that struck our yard while I was out left a small forest of potted plants lying on their sides and panting for breath. As I made them stand upright again, I knew exactly how they felt. Even a visit with one of my favorite Bangkok people didn't give me the usual jolt of joie de vivre that I usually feel after chatting with her for a few hours. 

Last night when I went down for more water, there was a small frog hopping around the legs of the dining table. When I tried to persuade him to go back outside, he headed off in the opposite direction--obviously he knew something about the impending weather that I didn't.

I hope I don't see him later this evening, hopping out a forecast for further tropical depression to come--having the weather turn prematurely grey is much worse than broiling sunlight can ever be.