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Gulch of Shadow
Nov. 6th, 2020 09:40 pmApparently wrestling with saplings is necessary for my mental health. Today, I didn't get a chance to do any more work outside. I can feel the results. I'm cranky and downcast. I've noticed lately that I can maintain an even strain (as the astronauts put it in The Right Stuff) for about three days, and then I tend to crash and burn, or at least to clank and sizzle. Then I have to chop something or engage in some lalochezia and try to regain my equilibrium. Martial arts used to be a good reset.
I had to do some shopping today. It got there pretty early, so there weren't too many people. The checkers I used to chat with, two old ladies and a Russian immigrant, seem to be on different shifts now. I had a fairly interesting discussion with the man who was running the cash register, while I bagged my own groceries. They don't always have enough baggers, so I took over. Some of the checkers get annoyed if you interfere, but he didn't seem to mind. He said he'd like to go to Cuba and see for himself what it's like. Either Cuba or Russia, he added. I suggested that Cuba probably has a nicer climate, but agreed I am curious to see either. The thought of going almost anywhere right now is attractive.
I got home just in time to stuff things into the refrigerator pretty much at random, then have the weekly Zoom call with Deb and the Prussian. It was the kind of day when you really don't want to do anything but sit outside and gaze and gaze at the leaves and the blue sky, knowing how soon they'll be gone. So that's what I did--took a cup of tea outside with my notebook. The Sparrowhawk was on his monthly Zoom with his high school friends, one of whom now lives in Greece. The remaining leaves were falling like sunlit rain. There was nothing at all melancholy about it on this perfect day. They seemed to leap cheerfully to join their fellows, eagerly seeking their spot on the ground like belated concertgoers bustling down the rows to find their places. They seemed happy in their fall. And the ground was ankle-deep in gold as if the sun had fallen to earth.
After his Zoom, the Sparrowhawk told me that the friend in Greece had been talking about kale, which she enjoys and prepares in many ingenious ways. Then all the other friends had to chime in to vote kale up or down. They asked the Sparrowhawk, and he admitted he was not a big fan, then started making kale jokes. The friend in Greece finally had enough of this mockery of a noble vegetable and exclaimed "And you are a BRAT! Just like you always were!" This made me laugh too. He was the youngest of his friend group, and I can so easily imagine him in high school--charming but just a bit of a smartass. It's good when you're 70 to know people who can remember when you were 17.
I had to do some shopping today. It got there pretty early, so there weren't too many people. The checkers I used to chat with, two old ladies and a Russian immigrant, seem to be on different shifts now. I had a fairly interesting discussion with the man who was running the cash register, while I bagged my own groceries. They don't always have enough baggers, so I took over. Some of the checkers get annoyed if you interfere, but he didn't seem to mind. He said he'd like to go to Cuba and see for himself what it's like. Either Cuba or Russia, he added. I suggested that Cuba probably has a nicer climate, but agreed I am curious to see either. The thought of going almost anywhere right now is attractive.
I got home just in time to stuff things into the refrigerator pretty much at random, then have the weekly Zoom call with Deb and the Prussian. It was the kind of day when you really don't want to do anything but sit outside and gaze and gaze at the leaves and the blue sky, knowing how soon they'll be gone. So that's what I did--took a cup of tea outside with my notebook. The Sparrowhawk was on his monthly Zoom with his high school friends, one of whom now lives in Greece. The remaining leaves were falling like sunlit rain. There was nothing at all melancholy about it on this perfect day. They seemed to leap cheerfully to join their fellows, eagerly seeking their spot on the ground like belated concertgoers bustling down the rows to find their places. They seemed happy in their fall. And the ground was ankle-deep in gold as if the sun had fallen to earth.
After his Zoom, the Sparrowhawk told me that the friend in Greece had been talking about kale, which she enjoys and prepares in many ingenious ways. Then all the other friends had to chime in to vote kale up or down. They asked the Sparrowhawk, and he admitted he was not a big fan, then started making kale jokes. The friend in Greece finally had enough of this mockery of a noble vegetable and exclaimed "And you are a BRAT! Just like you always were!" This made me laugh too. He was the youngest of his friend group, and I can so easily imagine him in high school--charming but just a bit of a smartass. It's good when you're 70 to know people who can remember when you were 17.
