Gray skies also seemed to speak of dampness.
Saturday seemed a day rich in atmospheric possibilities, provided that these expressed themselves in the dimensions of dampness.
The temperature could in no way be blamed for any sensations of impending oppressiveness we might have felt. Days with afternoons in the 70s, such as Saturday, seldom serve as scapegoats for our meteorological resentments.On Saturday, they seemed to subdue springtime high spirits, and suggest a world with much of its spark and sparkle suppressed, leaving a landscape without its bright May colors.
Such skies seemed appropriate to a day of robust relative humidity and a dew point that headed toward the realms of discomfort. By sunset, however, the tight ranks of clouds seemed to relent; some drifted apart, and stretches of water-washed blue set off the oranges tinting the western skies.