Saturday, August 1, 2009

white sky

In January I recorded in my bedside notebook:

Looking out at the black, bare branches on a thick, white sky. I love this small outlook onto rooftops and trees. Though I never see people, it makes me feel less alone, as though I am out there, a part of that piece of landscape, and the fact of my being grounded here doesn’t matter so much.

Today is the first of August, and I record:

The branches most visible to me are still black, and the sky is thick and white. I think the rain will never stop. But today I would not, in any case, know what to do with a blue and golden day, especially if it were hot. The rain and sky are therefore a kindness to me, they cover me like a blanket, similar to the light duvet I am lying under now. I spoke to a friend who is recovering from cancer. She had been out for a morning walk and the lake, the people with their dogs and all the morning runners, all the life in the park, was beautiful. Life was beautiful. Yes, I said, and yes.


Cusp said...

The sabbatical from your blog is obviously doing you good: more time to ponder and consider in what seems a more natural way (at least to we over 50s [all right I know you're really 21]) than bashing away at a keyboard. Lovely pieces of writing

Snuggle back under the covers .....

Kahless said...

Yea, you are still around!


And ditto to what Cusp said.

trousers said...

...and yes, is what I say too.

Collin Kelley said...


Montag said...
This comment has been removed by the author.
Montag said...

Today is August 7, and if it were a blue and gold day, I would get into a canoe and find a hidden river behind the island where the wild horses are, and look for things in the reeds.

If it were a rainy day, I'd wear a slicker, and make sure the sandwiches were water-proofed.

Alas, it is neither.
It is a day epagomenal.