Bangalore, April 20, 2024 I had been at an ultimate frisbee tournament with my partner and our 12 teammates all day (welcome to the blog, I am an extremely cool person), at a big patch of lumpy, crisped grass the color of hay. It had taken us some 40 minutes to get there even though we'd left before five in the morning, when hardly anyone was on the road. There was not a square foot of shade on any of the three fields that the teams were playing on, and so we'd spent the day sloughing sweat off our foreheads, tugging uniforms away from our chests only for them to suction right back to our bodies, guzzling water that quickly heated to shower temperature on the sidelines. It had not looked like rain, and yet come evening, a huge, nearly black cloud rolled across the landscape. It was odd, being able to see such an enormous cloud in its entirety. Bangalore is not a tall city, but its buildings are still big and blocky enough to disrupt the full picture of the sky, and so for a few minutes I was mesmerized by just how vast that sky can be, delighted to be able to take in so much of it at once, to watch the enormity of a storm churn and froth and shadow the day.