Last dance

A few days ago, I started Donna Summer’s albums in chronological order, partly due to two online pals’ tangentially related recent musical cues, memories of a college-era greatest-hits tape and word of a record-label biopic. She went well with slow driving through rainy weather.

A close up look from the greenway at a bend of Wildcat Creek, swollen with cold muddy brown runoff rain from a long day's worth of wet weather, replete with flood warnings, as seen from Chattleton Lane in San Pablo, California.

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