Thursday, October 27, 2011
Hello dear love, not only is it snowing - shocking enough for this time of year - but it actually seems to be sticking. I haven't turned on a weather forecast - I don't really want to know. And yet I've sensed that we're moving towards winter. At night my covers haven't been quite warm enough; today I thought to replace the duvet liner with a heavier one. I took a nap under fresh laundered covers, and slept soundly under the cozy weight. Just now I hear geese honking - I wonder if they're surprised by the snow too - darn! we should be further south now! they might be thinking, as they exhort themselves to fly further, faster. I imagine that tonight will be the first frost of the season - adios, zinnias & cosmos. Til next year.
summer cosmos that
I picked last week, an
apple-walnut cake that I baked this afternoon - cozy dessert for after dinner, or to have with coffee in the morning.
I slept quite deeply during that nap - not for long, a half hour or so, but when I woke up in the dusky room, under the heft of linens covering me like a deep layer of snow, I felt as though I had entered hibernation mode, a slowing weighted mode that I've experienced, seasonally, my entire life, since girlhood. I sleep more as the days grow shorter and colder. (My sister too, maybe? Is that a reason why she moved to Hawaii?!) I feel pulled by that undertow, when it's gloomy out - and the sun never did come out.
I managed a walk this morning in light cold rain, my hair and my fleece damp when I returned home. I battled fatigue and pushed myself to do a workout, motivated a tad extra since a subject on Anderson was obesity - and so, oh no, every day I have to exercise very vigorously. Especially since D found a half-price wedge of French brie at the supermarket yesterday...
My dearest, you grew up with long harsh winters, fiercer even than what we get here. I wish I knew you better. I think you must have been an adorable little boy. That thought crossed my mind as I stood at the sink, peeling apples maybe, or loading the dishwasher. You've seen pictures of me as a girl, I never was photogenic. I picture you looking at a framed snapshot of me when I was in elementary school I think, my hair long around my full round face, I'm only half-smiling and look directly at the camera, past me (regarding the image myself many years later), past you. I try to picture you as a little boy, serious, sturdy, inquisitive, yet a bit cautious perhaps. Very sweet, at any rate - you must have been.
So darling, I'm sure you can tell this is the most uninspired post ever. My writing to you like this is a lifeline, yet sometimes I wish I could just take a vacation from it - in the sense of communicating with you in some other way, if only by stealing glances at each other across a dining table, never mind being in each other's arms.
Dear Levin, let's dispense with those pj's of yours and climb in bed, under soft enveloping covers that settle warmly about us, the two of us holding each other beneath their light encompassing embrace. We'll look at each other's grown-up faces, stroke each other's hair, touch cheeks, murmur about who knows what, all the while the covers discreetly obliviously protecting us, keeping us warm and covered until the furnaces of our fused bodies, limbs entwined, ignite and heat under a complex of soft wrappings, comfortable mattress on a double bed in peacefully appointed bedchamber under motionless ceiling fan, while we against soft pillows, cases smooth and freshly laundered, examine each other in every way, hear each other's voices, inhale, imbibe, while outside the windows, unseasonable snow might be falling all around...
and plus all day long today, in the rawness of the weather
it reminded me of the one time I ever visited Seattle
just this time of year I think it was
my good friend from college, Nicole
they put me up - she & her husband - in a spare room
with an electric blanket
I was such an awful chainsmoker then
it's a wonder I didn't fry the blanket
or burn the house down
that whole time in Seattle, the days,
the few days I was there
it rained & poured and was gray & watery & wet
and I kept walking downhill from wherever they were
to colorful shelters
in the forms of cafes, coffee shops
Pike Square Market
anyway - really that's how this day was -
until it began to snow
it reminded me of Seattle
where I don't think it ever snows - does it?
or if so --- certainly not in October