Rain! Rain! Rain! So much rain these little villages are sprouting up everywhere.
They remind me of beach huts--miniature palapas for gnome creatures.
Maybe it's raining so much, the little people need umbrellas.
There is also something sort of pancake like about mushrooms and lichens.
Meanwhile, the rain goes on.
Rain, then sun, and hot steams rise up off the pavement. Then a cloud, or not, and rain again. "The devil is beating his wife," they say when it rains while the sun shines. Or, "The god's are crying."
My backyard has become a rainforest place with towering bamboo and incessant hungry mosquitos.
We haven't had a drop rain and it is 100 degrees up. Those little mushrooms look like they have little bumps. The ones we get here in the mountains are plain. Of course there are the kind that you can eat - a gourmet mushroom like morales.
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