Tonight I walked home with the sunset and slowly up the stairs to my pre-war apartment, quiet and calm and drifting on a cloud of Ella Fitzgerald and twilight. I was wearing a Harris Tweed coat and a little felt hat, and it suddenly hit me that this moment could have taken place any time in the last sixty years. There once again at my kitchen window with my beautifully striped permakitten I smiled at the citysky and at at all the other women through time who’d watched the heavens from the land where I was perched. When we surrender to its magic, Mercury retrograde opens portals to other eras like a time machine that doesn’t believe in time at all.
Tonight I walked home with the sunset and slowly up the stairs to my pre-war apartment, quiet and calm and drifting on a cloud of Ella Fitzgerald and twilight. I was wearing a Harris Tweed coat and a little felt hat, and it suddenly hit me that this moment could have taken place any time in the last sixty years. There once again at my kitchen window with my beautifully striped permakitten I smiled at the citysky and at at all the other women through time who’d watched the heavens from the land where I was perched. When we surrender to its magic, Mercury retrograde opens portals to other eras like a time machine that doesn’t believe in time at all.