There’s nothing more poignant than a swing set in the rain. The sight of it evokes memories of summer afternoons of my childhood in the Bronx; the smell of the rain hitting the hot pavement signaling the end of playing on the swings. “But I get wet in the bathtub – what’s the difference?”, my logical argument, didn’t cut it with our mothers, and we kids were unceremoniously yanked in the apartments to avoid the lightning that was sure to strike the Parkchester playground at any moment! Well, those days are long gone, and the rain wasn’t going to stop my afternoon of drawing. As I sat perched under my umbrella drawing this lonely swing set, a homeless man walking by yelled out words of encouragement – “That’s right baby, water for your watercolors!” Too cool.