Saturday, March 22
Make me a poster of an old rodeo0 comments
Angels of Montgomery
I am sitting at my computer with a view of the sun melting a glittery icicle that clings to our roof gutter. The entire neighborhood is outside at the end of their driveways leaning on a propped shovel while talking with their neighbors who hold the leash of a large German Shepard or Greyhound. At work, patients and therapists counted down the days to spring and here we are just beginning spring while standing knee deep in snow. Snow, you are forgivable until April. After that, let it go.
I am in the mood to ramble: tenaciously checking airfares to Montana and New York City. I have a massive hunger for both land and water. The juxtaposition of desiring to to be alone for miles and miles as well as sitting in a writer's coffee shop crawling with people. Lisa leaves me stories about her adventures in Brooklyn on my answering machine. They fill me with the wonderment of a child as I drive home from work. I am plotting a visit to Lisa in June where my aspirations lead me to lying in the middle of Central Park and writing silly poetry in a comfortable chair. Mark, a friend of Ben and mine, toils in Montana with his bicycle shop and brass instruments. I am craving the Yellowstone forests and mountain hikes and biking among the bald eagles that he spoke of last summer when visiting. Finally, Ben and I are planning a trip to the Boundary Waters for a canoing adventure next September when the mosquitoes will be quiet. The idea of being the only people for miles around is thrilling.
So today I will enjoy what I hope is the last of snow: it is melting quickly and I have no doubts that the sun will have shoveled our driveway by evening. Little adventures are building in my home town such a trip to the Unicorn exhibit with Michelle at the Field Museum or Ravinia's Allison Kraus and Robert Plant concert. Hurrah!
posted by Jenny Saturday, March 22, 2008
