Archive | Weather Matters
Now is the time of year when my brain slows to an absolute crawl. I’m trying to write an overdue piece on a topic I adore–a topic I campaigned to cover, for heaven’s sake–and all I can think about is ocean breezes, porch swings, fresh corn, snapdragons, sugar snap peas, glasses of rosé, a book beneath a tree, tan limbs wrapped around my own. If in winter I prefer to hibernate, in summer I only wish to sprawl–Mama Nature is producing such glorious bounty that it seems disrespectful to compete. Yet deadlines loom and, ever the freelancer with a case of the Cassandras, I feel compelled to take all the assignments I can, especially as it’s work I am lucky to do. (Remember your ancestors’ struggles, chants something deep in my blood.) Yes, this concrete jungle boils over; yes, my temper threatens to do the same. But somebody’s gotta buy that premium permakitten food and I’m the only member of my household with opposable thumbs.Venus Approaches
July approaches, and peonies still preside on my bedside table though their season used to end in May. I chalk it up to the unseasonably mild weather, and complain not.
The baby doves on my fire escape are not babies anymore but also are still hanging out, peep-peep-peeping while their mother fusses over them like all the other Brooklyn mommies. Every morning as I drink my coffee I watch her nag them into flying a little further while their father observes from on high. Grace watches too, ears flattened, a burr forming low in her throat. Twice I’ve had to snatch her mid-air lest she hurl at them through the screen window; she seems to have located her predatory instincts quite nicely, thank you very much. Continue Reading →
The Church of Green and Gold and Dolly
Four nights ago I dreamed that my friend K and his daughter were holding my hands as we went on a nature adventure. I woke up smiling without much more to go on. K, who is a painter and musician of some repute, was not leading me on; he was just leading me. I could tell he loves me, though. And while he loves a lot of people, this doesn’t preclude his love for me. Love is love is love is love, said Lin-Manuel a week ago, and he was right. Love is everything and it’s everywhere and it’s never “though” and it’s never “just.” When we forget that, we’re up a creek the likes of which—well, the whole country is up that creek as I type. Continue Reading →