Uncertain

Notes

It was an uncertain spring.
…in London umbrellas were open and then shut
by people looking up at the sky.
Dusk was falling.
They looked spectral and insubstantial
in the dim light.
Lamps were being lit…
The street was wet; roofs were shining.
Dark clouds were moving across the sky;
the branches were tossing up and down in
the light of the street lamps.
It was raining.
At length the moon rose and its polished coin,
though obscured now and then by wisps of cloud,
shone out with serenity,
with severity,
or perhaps with complete indifference.
The party at the Lodge was over.
The ladies stood in the doorway
in their flowing gowns,
and looked up at the sky
from which a gentle rain was falling.
She opened the windows, and drew the curtains.
Then she kicked off her shoes.

– Fragments excerpted from The Years, (1880) by Virginia Woolf