Condensation

This morning the windows are covered with water, condensed from the humidity around us, probably close to 100%. I wonder how it can be so wet and not be raining or under water. Nemo would feel at home. Beads run down the panes, small rivers and their tributaries. Plants are wearing jewelry, celebrating. The ground as wet as from a storm. Yet when I walk, I don’t gather jewels. Plowing through the watered air, I leave it behind. My warmth vaccinates me from gathering the water that surrounds me. Such an intricate dance of temperatures and humidity. It creates the clouds, the storms, the hurricanes. As intricate as a butterfly’s wing. Each bit and part finding a fit with another and creating a wonder on the window pane.