Threads


It’s supposed to get hot again today- up into the eighties or maybe the nineties. I closed up the house before I left and set the thermostat, just to be safe, but it’s difficult to wrap my mind around weather that warm when the mornings are cool and increasingly dark. It used to be that I would walk to the bus facing into the rising sun. Now the sun is barely warming the horizon by the time I make it to the express bus stop. 

All my years growing up in a place with four seasons has given me a deeply seated impulse to hibernate when the days get short, dark and cold. This is not easy to do when the days are merely short, but otherwise are hot and sunny. I find myself warring with my other Four-Season impulse to Go Outside It’s A Beautiful Day. When you only get a handful of days with perfect weather it is easy to make it a priority to go outside just for the sake of enjoying the weather, but when everyday is beautiful, it’s hard to get much else done. 

Well now I’ve gone on about the weather for a good two hundred words. This might be a sign that I don’t have much to say. Actually the problem is that I have quite a few things on my mind that I need to ruminate on and I’m longing for a gray and dreary day to dedicate to sorting myself out. Last night I started going through an old box of mementos from my undergraduate days. I didn’t finish, so I can’t quite put it out of my mind. I’m realizing how many people I’ve fallen out of touch with: roommates, classmates, friends from afar, friends from a faire. Friends whose names I no longer even recognize. I found a series of cards from my grandfather- I’d forgotten that he’d ever written to me. ( His words of wisdom included: “Remember, time flies like an arrow, but fruit flies like a banana.” Because who else could take a Dad-Joke to the next level like a grandpa?)

At any rate, I find myself caught between the threads of my thoughts and struggling to pull them together into any kind of shape. 

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~ by Gwydhar Gebien on October 19, 2016.

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