Tidbits
SUBLIME
Two nights ago, driving home from work past the airport on Main St. in Warwick: Over the air field, behind the tree silhouettes to the east, rose the hugest new moon I've ever seen. It was the exact color of Cheshire cheese against the deep-blue evening sky and could have been (if oval) the Hindenburg tethered to a post: a colossus, unbearably light. If I could have stopped the car on that busy four-lane road, I would have, just to gape. As it was, Kevin and I drove past our street to the Oakland Beach parking lot and watched the golden disc continue to float up and over Warwick Neck.
PROFANE (but lovely in its leap of logic)
Caroline, looking down to check: "My poop is brown."
Me: "Yes, that's exactly the color it should be."
Pause
Caroline: "Snowmans make white poops."
MOMENT-OUS
This morning when I got downstairs around 6:35 am, the sky to the east through our living-room windows was striated in rippling bands of pink, purple, and peach against the palest of blue skies, rolling out a colorful carpet in advance of the sun's appearance. I found myself pacing toward the sunroom to grab my camera, then stopping and realizing "It will look washed out," then thinking "Oh, so what, get the camera anyway." Finally I realized that in my dithering I had forgotten to be, forgotten to see. I stopped and gazed through the windows, past our back yard and those of our neighbors behind us, and took in the black lace of bare tree branches against that glorious, ephemeral morning sky.
DELIGHTFUL
Yesterday's lunch with Sarah at Phonatic: Over Vietnamese noodle soup and spring rolls we commiserated about teenaged sons, shared the good and not-so-good about our lives in recent months, and ended up laughing until tears formed in our eyes about the pretentious earnestness of our young adulthood, the crazy optimism of anyone who has children and is dazzled by their babies and toddlers (Look out! we want to tell new parents), and the saving grace of humor that puts many things in perspective – perhaps most of all, our own foibles. Camaraderie... release... the pleasant exhaustion of laughing it all out with an intelligent kindred spirit... And back in the office, a shot of energy to carry me through the afternoon. This, we must do more often.
Two nights ago, driving home from work past the airport on Main St. in Warwick: Over the air field, behind the tree silhouettes to the east, rose the hugest new moon I've ever seen. It was the exact color of Cheshire cheese against the deep-blue evening sky and could have been (if oval) the Hindenburg tethered to a post: a colossus, unbearably light. If I could have stopped the car on that busy four-lane road, I would have, just to gape. As it was, Kevin and I drove past our street to the Oakland Beach parking lot and watched the golden disc continue to float up and over Warwick Neck.
PROFANE (but lovely in its leap of logic)
Caroline, looking down to check: "My poop is brown."
Me: "Yes, that's exactly the color it should be."
Pause
Caroline: "Snowmans make white poops."
MOMENT-OUS
This morning when I got downstairs around 6:35 am, the sky to the east through our living-room windows was striated in rippling bands of pink, purple, and peach against the palest of blue skies, rolling out a colorful carpet in advance of the sun's appearance. I found myself pacing toward the sunroom to grab my camera, then stopping and realizing "It will look washed out," then thinking "Oh, so what, get the camera anyway." Finally I realized that in my dithering I had forgotten to be, forgotten to see. I stopped and gazed through the windows, past our back yard and those of our neighbors behind us, and took in the black lace of bare tree branches against that glorious, ephemeral morning sky.
DELIGHTFUL
Yesterday's lunch with Sarah at Phonatic: Over Vietnamese noodle soup and spring rolls we commiserated about teenaged sons, shared the good and not-so-good about our lives in recent months, and ended up laughing until tears formed in our eyes about the pretentious earnestness of our young adulthood, the crazy optimism of anyone who has children and is dazzled by their babies and toddlers (Look out! we want to tell new parents), and the saving grace of humor that puts many things in perspective – perhaps most of all, our own foibles. Camaraderie... release... the pleasant exhaustion of laughing it all out with an intelligent kindred spirit... And back in the office, a shot of energy to carry me through the afternoon. This, we must do more often.
posted by Anonymous at
8:35 AM
2 Comments:
That moon has been extra beautiful lately, but I know what you mean, I guilty of seeing something beautiful and running though, "TRIPOD! BATTERY! AUGH!"
Thank Caroline for explaining what all that white stuff in my yard was last week. I had no idea where it came from. ;)
Good tidbits, all!
By
BrideOfPorkins, at Thu Feb 12, 07:11:00 PM EST
Yep, I hate when the neighbors take their snowman out for a walk and he poops on my lawn.
(OK, actually I live in Texas and there are no snowmen here.)
By
Anonymous, at Fri Feb 13, 09:36:00 PM EST
Post a Comment
<< Home