Thursday, August 11, 2011

Bradbury Air.

When a Ray Bradburyesque wind blows, it usually means one thing to most people. To me, it means something entirely different. I should tell you what it means to me, I suppose. That's probably why you're reading. Some part of me would like to make you guess. Does it mean strange things are afoot, or love is in the air, or someone's heart feels like a wet sneaker that has been put in the dryer? Maybe all three. Maybe none. Maybe I can't tell anymore.

Yesterday, walking down a familiar sidewalk, I felt the first signs of a Fall that I've hoped for. The summer has been anything but a vacation for me, though that's what most are callin' it...from their points of view. For me, it's been an introspective time during which I'm supposed to be the most extroverted self of my year. I wish I would have taken notes while I was livin' it. But that's just it. Livin' doesn't leave a lot of room for note taking, even if you know shorthand.

Decisions seem to be something that are inescapable, but what if you don't trust part of your brain like you once did? Worrying that choices placed before me somehow held a promise of something that seemed like gold, but might be more like fairy dust. Though, neither seem to be bad when you look right at them both. And that's the truth of it.


2 comments:

jorg wobblington lopez said...

I know what you mean about summer. I complain about winter, but when the sun goes down at 6, and you need 3-4 layers to go outside, there are plenty of excuses not to go out.

Newt said...

Hugssss from afar...