It poured all night, but by daybreak the rain had stopped. Now the neighborhood is muffled in fog; everything is soft and sodden.

Outside a pack of crows carries on in the maples; a mockingbird sings among the lilacs; an early train rumbles past.

I didn't sleep very well, which is unfortunate, given that I have to teach all afternoon. I feel okay now but expect to be slammed with tiredness just at the wrong moment. Still, the early morning is beautiful . . . this dense quivering fog, like mist on a glass.

Yesterday, before the rain began, I transplanted tomatoes, peppers, eggplant, sunflowers into their summer homes. I separated hosta shoots and moved the pieces into various corners of the back garden. And now this fog, and now the first edges of sunshine and warmth: May is poised for glory.