2007-03-27 - 10:28 p.m.
Got caught in the rain today. That hasn't happened in a long time: actually getting poured on while not near any kind of thing or car or dry place. We were playing frisbee golf because it was eighty degrees today and it was forty-five minutes before dark and there were four of us. But then, on the third hole, looking for Nick's disk in the woods past the rusted barbed-wire fence, where it was actually zoo property, the wind blew tremendously, sending leaves crashing into our faces, and Kevin said, "If that isn't some kind of nature's warning." And then the sky got dark fast and all of a sudden, the world was different. And storms are storms are storms, but then Nick found his disk and climbed the fence and climbed back over and when his feet hit the ground, the rain started. Running through late-March rain that's much colder than your jeans and T-shirt and which soaks you before you can get to your truck, all of that's pretty good. The windows steamed up and the water from my hair found its way down the crease of my back.
On the drive home, I had a pretty good thought, I think, about my new project and I'm going to try to frame every chapter around this central idea (new title: "I Wanted" although that probably's not very good).
Just poured hot water over a tea bag. We do strange little things, in our heads. Little dances that sound like we're five years old again, or ten, or eighty. Every time, I do this. I put the tea bag in the cup and drape the string over the side. When I start to pour, I have that hesitation that says, "Watch it. Don't pour too fast. If you pour too fast, the splash of the water will yank the string and paper square into the cup and then you'll have to fish that out and hot water hurts." Every time. And it's a silly thing. But then, every time, I remember that if I pour slowly, the paper square and string will lower, like a ladder being lowered to the ground, as I pour in the water. It never stops amazing me, that tiny terror and its little answer.0 comments so far