Ah! Sweltering here on Long Island in the middle of October? The sun has come and gone throughout the day. It is dreary and virtually menacing. There is no breeze so the ginger tinged leaves hesitate, waiting for permission to descend to the steamy ground. The majestic oaks still secreted under the sprigs are anxious to flaunt their bark, their armor, ready for the winter confrontation. Everything awaits the natural progression of life.
I need the sun. When the winter comes, anything is bearable as long as there is sun.
The east coast seldom disappoints me. Most days are favored with bright light. During the coldest record breaking snowstorms the sun has brilliantly shown, indifferent to the other forces of nature and the expectations of mortals. Such sovereignty!
It is different where she lives. In Scotland, the rain comes on most days of the year, blessing the earth, keeping it fertile and green for the sheep and cows that graze across the road from our home.
The days are short. When I fly in it is dark with the sunrise coming two hours after landing. As we drive over hilltops on the west, it is a roller coaster ride along the sea, first steeply up and falling quickly into the cavernous valleys. The surf crashes briskly against the rocks and then again slides down into the oblivion of the Firth of Clyde.
In winter, dark cloaks the town by 5 pm. One is suddenly embraced by this nightfall prompting thoughts of mortality and extinction. It is a primitive place with a church whose dead have rested there for hundreds of years. Evenings are spent with a gas stove rendering one grateful as the hardships of past inhabitants are considered.
Two worlds, one bright, the other either coming out of the darkness or into it.
Copyright © 2008 by m.m.sugar
"The difficulty in life is the choice."
George A. Moore
"Between two stools one sits on the ground."
Francois Rabelais
“I’ll have that one, please”
H.B. Tree
2 comments:
beautifully written angel! i can feel the humidity and smell the garden ... not long and i will sit under those mighty oaks alongside my girl.
as for our scots winter weather ...
"O Winter! ruler of the inverted year, . . . I crown thee king of intimate delights, Fireside enjoyments, home-born happiness, And all the comforts that the lowly roof Of undisturb'd Retirement, and the hours Of long uninterrupted evening, know."
William Cowper (1731 - 1800), Task (bk. IV, l. 120)
"In the depth of winter, I finally learned that within me there lay an invincible summer."
Albert Camus (1913 - 1960)
To You reeflightning.
An Ode to a Poet
If I move from this place then the rhyme will be lost
like the dreams when you move from the bed. All the lessons
we’ve learned between slumber and light are the truths, never making
the pages of knowing.
All we have are these caves living deep in our minds
Where potholes are many and where entities speak, on their own
in the dark. Here the hand has to steer very close to the soul
or it writes on regardless ever emptying out.
All these dreams, they’re for us to pass on when we die
so that others can read as they journey thereafter. Your words
lit up cities where I chose to roam. A much needed distraction,
one I’ve treasured so long.
Your mind softened the pain when I got stuck
When these caves heard my cries all alone in the dark
You lit paths for me there when the lights went out and you reached for
my hand when the rains came down
So while you are a poet who is still undead
and the clocks on the walls tick around my longing
Show me your pages that remain unread and bring light to these caves
where my soul is crawling.......
Alison Mary Dunn
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