(no subject)
today is a strange gift. it blew in on the breeze at around four o'clock yesterday; my mother was outside in the driveway and she said it was one of the the strangest, eeriest sensations she'd ever felt--like a cool, dry blanket suddenly draped over her sweaty, wilted shoulders.
we slept with the windows open last night. i can't remember the city ever being so quiet. i didn't hear a single siren or car alarm or angry horn; even the dogs kept mum, and the air was disconcertingly free of white noise without the steady drone and drip of air-conditioners.
i can't remember a cold snap ever occurring like this smack in the middle of august, always a brutal and unwavering month, a muggy onslaught when summer loses its last shred of charm and even kids don't want to play outside anymore. with the sudden, blessed change in the weather, i'm reminded of the annual headiness and elation surrounding the onset of spring (even though this is precisely the opposite phenomenon). gardeners on the block are tending brown, thirsting patches of flora, the neighbors' cats are spunkier than i've seen them in months, bounding all around the perimeter of our house, as are the children tearing up and down the street on sneakered feet or roller skates or bike pedals.
this is not a day to be squandered.
i have to-do lists staring up at me from every surface and a cross-country move in 10 days and the GRE on monday and they're all getting de-prioritized. right now it's bright and not quite 70 degrees and i am aching to be outside and remember what it feels like to move and stretch and bask and BREATHE in air that isn't dense and suffocating. for months i've resentfully characterized the sun as an oppressive tormentor, who delights in burning my skin and giving me searing headaches and driving me into hiding indoors. Well. Today, that sun and me, we're going to kiss and make up.
we slept with the windows open last night. i can't remember the city ever being so quiet. i didn't hear a single siren or car alarm or angry horn; even the dogs kept mum, and the air was disconcertingly free of white noise without the steady drone and drip of air-conditioners.
i can't remember a cold snap ever occurring like this smack in the middle of august, always a brutal and unwavering month, a muggy onslaught when summer loses its last shred of charm and even kids don't want to play outside anymore. with the sudden, blessed change in the weather, i'm reminded of the annual headiness and elation surrounding the onset of spring (even though this is precisely the opposite phenomenon). gardeners on the block are tending brown, thirsting patches of flora, the neighbors' cats are spunkier than i've seen them in months, bounding all around the perimeter of our house, as are the children tearing up and down the street on sneakered feet or roller skates or bike pedals.
this is not a day to be squandered.
i have to-do lists staring up at me from every surface and a cross-country move in 10 days and the GRE on monday and they're all getting de-prioritized. right now it's bright and not quite 70 degrees and i am aching to be outside and remember what it feels like to move and stretch and bask and BREATHE in air that isn't dense and suffocating. for months i've resentfully characterized the sun as an oppressive tormentor, who delights in burning my skin and giving me searing headaches and driving me into hiding indoors. Well. Today, that sun and me, we're going to kiss and make up.