Driving today, after work, in dimming light along Lake Washington, the blue bruised water ruckled-up in the wind, the maples and alders side of the road in every shade of red/orange/yellow. A swathe of rainbow to the north, a concentrated lump of color sitting just at the horizon. The sky beyond: velvet charcoal.
I kept shouting:
"I live here!"
I've driven that stretch of road so many times, it's easy to take it for granted. Easy to admit to a certain ordinariness in what is never ordinary, never the same from day to day, from hour to hour.
Easy to dismiss the forward-thinking gods who delivered me back to this city that I love, and to whom I say:
thank-you
thank-you
thank-you
I know EXACTLY how you feel; I often feel like shouting something similar as I walk through the woods with my dogs.
ReplyDeleteI understand that feeling, too, although my landscape is entirely different.
ReplyDeleteI love the word "ruckled-up" --
Oh, I get this! Every so often I look around me and think WOW! I take it for granted and then I don't.
ReplyDelete"...You are neither here nor there,
ReplyDeleteA hurry through which known and strange things pass
As big soft buffetings come at the car sideways
And catch the heart off guard and blow it open."
Postcript, Seamus Heaney
a joyous moment, my friend. head on over to my blog and translate that experience into my TGIF post. I'll send ya a lil' sumpin sumpin if you do.
ReplyDelete