The onset of a Delhi Winter ?

Yesterday morning we were sitting in the garden discussing "The Impressionist" the notable first novel of an Indian author called Hari Kunzru.
Last night we were lashed by terrible winds and driving rain. NO POWER

This morning the generators are still on and the world is wrapped in cotton wool stretching and struggling to break loose from its cocoon of white. Dew drops dangle and the earth once again assumes the power of Uhu glue sticking to the underfoot of your shoe as if determined to be lifted from its place on this "uth" This blog is for my friend Doreen. A sharing of Foggy days.