If I could, I would bottle this day, just pour it into a little glass bottle so that when I need it someday, I can open it and take a sip. A little sip of this day, I'm sure, would cure any future ills.
I wasted my afternoon - "no, used." my mom said, "you didn't waste it." - I deliberately spent my afternoon curled up on two chairs on the back deck with the new Harry Potter book. As the sun moved, my shade disappeared and I moved further along the deck and then down onto the grass. The wind blew gently through the leaves of the trees that stretched far up over my head. A jet pulled its perfect double trail across the open space above me. Six hours of beautiful day later, with hardly a stop for the bathroom or a drink, I turned the 759th page and felt the satisfied sadness of reaching the end. I love a book that leaves me hoping for a better real world.
Finished with the book, recovering from my longing, I moved to the front porch with my computer. A plane descending, maybe to Chicago, caught the sunlight and winked at me from the clear sky. I love planes, and the idea that there are people going somewhere new, somewhere exciting, somewhere loved.
I used to work with kids. At the beginning of every meal, every person had to say something they were thankful for, in lieu of a prayer. Nearly every sunny day, I said, "I'm thankful for the blue sky." (Okay, also usually for the kids that were there, etc. But always the blue sky, when there was one.) One little girl finally said to me, "You really like blue sky, don't you?" Yes, I do. I'm a bit weird about blue sky. It feeds me, somehow.
The sky is a perfect blue, today.
I wasted my afternoon - "no, used." my mom said, "you didn't waste it." - I deliberately spent my afternoon curled up on two chairs on the back deck with the new Harry Potter book. As the sun moved, my shade disappeared and I moved further along the deck and then down onto the grass. The wind blew gently through the leaves of the trees that stretched far up over my head. A jet pulled its perfect double trail across the open space above me. Six hours of beautiful day later, with hardly a stop for the bathroom or a drink, I turned the 759th page and felt the satisfied sadness of reaching the end. I love a book that leaves me hoping for a better real world.
Finished with the book, recovering from my longing, I moved to the front porch with my computer. A plane descending, maybe to Chicago, caught the sunlight and winked at me from the clear sky. I love planes, and the idea that there are people going somewhere new, somewhere exciting, somewhere loved.
I used to work with kids. At the beginning of every meal, every person had to say something they were thankful for, in lieu of a prayer. Nearly every sunny day, I said, "I'm thankful for the blue sky." (Okay, also usually for the kids that were there, etc. But always the blue sky, when there was one.) One little girl finally said to me, "You really like blue sky, don't you?" Yes, I do. I'm a bit weird about blue sky. It feeds me, somehow.
The sky is a perfect blue, today.
No comments:
Post a Comment