I was all set to ride down to the Marigny for coffee and grading this afternoon when the rain started.  I don’t normally like to start a ride in the rain (thanks for the tip, pops!), but I just couldn’t wait.  So I donned my poncho, wrapped my messenger bag in a garbage bag, and took off.  And the skies just plain opened up.  I mean, it was really pouring.  Cars passing me threw up waves, leaving me soaked in spite of my fancy $3 poncho.  When I got to the Quarter, I had to pull over and take shelter.  I snapped this photo at the corner of Canal and Bourbon, surrounded by tourists taking similar cover.  The Quarter’s balconies serve so many purposes.  They are drunken bead-throwing party spots.  They are historical architectural artifacts.  They are gardens in the sky.  And today they were giant umbrellas.  That’s the thing, though, with space.  We make of it what we will even as it pushes back, placing its own limits on our possibilities.  I couldn’t take this umbrella with me.  I was going to get and stay soaked, but for a moment I found myself enough respite to clear my glasses so I could see again.  I stood still for a bit, but then hopped back on, went for coffee, and waited for the rains to stop.  It’s funny that it was on the way back, in the cool post-rain air, that I took my fall.  No worries–scrubbing, hydrogen peroxide and air and I’ll be all better in no time.