Quiet night
Came home today around seven, made myself dinner, and sat myself at the kitchen table for a nice evening of reading. I borrowed For Whom the Bell Tolls recently and have been enjoying it immensely. Hemingway is always sort of a pleasant surprise for me. So I sat and read for a while and drank some tea. And then I pushed myself up from the chair, saying to myself, "Yalla, Nance. It's shower time." I walked into my room to get my towel and stopped in my tracks.
I had glanced out the window, you see. And the glance became a stare, and I pulled my desk chair next to the window to look at the sky. It was 8:36pm, and the world outside was deep, deep blue. I had stumbled upon a blue time.
I sat looking out the window for a few minutes, and then grabbed a jacket and walked out on the back porch. The air smelled like lilacs, though it was too dark to see if there was a tree nearby. The orange glow from the streetlight a few houses down turned the maple leaves around it yellow, and the light shimmered out into the air that was the color of the Midnight Blue Crayola. Also, interestingly, the color of my dress for senior prom eight years ago.
So I was standing there on the back porch, breathing in the lilacs, watching the family across the street turn off the TV and lead Junior to bed. I was wearing a fleece, and the air was chilly, but without the sharp edge of fall. There was wind in the maples, hushing and shushing the traffic from the main streets, and I was thinking that this was the first time I was really taking the time to admire the sky since I had come to Boston. I was thinking that it had been years, perhaps, since I've stood to admire an evening in that way without a cigarette in my hand. I was surprised to note that I really didn't want a cigarette at all.
I do love these blue times.
I had glanced out the window, you see. And the glance became a stare, and I pulled my desk chair next to the window to look at the sky. It was 8:36pm, and the world outside was deep, deep blue. I had stumbled upon a blue time.
I sat looking out the window for a few minutes, and then grabbed a jacket and walked out on the back porch. The air smelled like lilacs, though it was too dark to see if there was a tree nearby. The orange glow from the streetlight a few houses down turned the maple leaves around it yellow, and the light shimmered out into the air that was the color of the Midnight Blue Crayola. Also, interestingly, the color of my dress for senior prom eight years ago.
So I was standing there on the back porch, breathing in the lilacs, watching the family across the street turn off the TV and lead Junior to bed. I was wearing a fleece, and the air was chilly, but without the sharp edge of fall. There was wind in the maples, hushing and shushing the traffic from the main streets, and I was thinking that this was the first time I was really taking the time to admire the sky since I had come to Boston. I was thinking that it had been years, perhaps, since I've stood to admire an evening in that way without a cigarette in my hand. I was surprised to note that I really didn't want a cigarette at all.
I do love these blue times.