Haiku 2023–265

I see it’s raining

in Chicago, but I can’t

feel, smell, or taste it

— —

The internet can bring the world to you, but it can only go so far.

As part of my scripted morning routine, I check the weather radar in Indianapolis to gauge the possibility of rain for the day. The northwest corner of the radar shows the south suburbs of Chicago — somewhere I used to live. It’s been dry here in Southwest Ohio, so it’s with some interest that I’ve noticed the radar reporting rain in that neck of the woods several times over the last couple of weeks. This somehow lead me to some thinking about the internet has become almost an extension of our senses.

Hear me out…

Without being anywhere near the Land of Lincoln, I can tell that it’s raining in Chicago in a number of ways. I can see the rain on the radar. I can get rainfall reports from numerous gauges and sensors. I can look at video streams of the rain falling. I can listen to news reports on the rain. I can read people posting the rain. I can almost place myself in a Chicagoans shoes on a rainy day, especially since I have first-hand experience of what it’s like to live there.

What I can’t do is feel the rain falling on my skin.

What I can’t do is breathe in the smells of a rainy day.

What I can’t do is taste the raindrops on my tongue.

I, in some ways, still find it miraculous that I can sit here in my living room and be connected with a rainy day in Chicago, but at the end of the day, I’m not there. I’m here… contemplating on the interconnection of everything.