Rain falls unabated Durhamward from cumulonimbus formations aloft above, soaking earth and human - all creation is drenched. Water beads on every surface and the air is moist to the touch. And underfoot is a comfortable give in the ground and a smattering of mud on your shoe, dug into the tread and flecked along the margin of the leather and the sole. The woods are quiet but for the branch to branch coursing of the water dripping finally to the ground.
In time the wind picks up; the clouds clear away; and parts of the ground dry up: the sidewalks, the street, the high patches of bare earth. The creek remains swollen with muddy moving water, indifferent to the meandering of its banks and for a time free to explore along the road and into the forest.
I can't find a photo of the academic nude except for this one where it is on top of the calling of st. matthew. Placed in this way though, it calls into question the roles of private and public.
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