3rd House Journal

Snowmelt

Snow slips from tree limbs and sifts down as fairy dust, a fat melt-drop blessing your forehead or kissing your cheek, one sudden sodden ladleful falling at your feet.

Last night

Stark streets, people hunch and stamp their feet at a T stop. Then the wide white curve of river, low arced bridge and lighted cupolas. I live here, I live here.

Flying out of Logan, January 12

Lifting off at dusk, we tilt skyward and the city's a carnival ride, higher and the snowy landscape below is a giant sugar cookie covered in candy sprinkles.

Forecast: snow

The emaciated hoodoos of eroded snowmen tilt frozen faces toward the sky - a beneficent omen, the fading wafer of sun dissolving in gathering gray.

This morning

Even the warm shower, cool tiles, sun through frosted glass fail to please. A day to knuckle through, grind it out, unearth equanimity, stumble on grace.

Breakfast alfresco, January

[My porch, 8am, 1/7/09]

Ice has formed across my tea, my toast sugared unsweetly white, eggs cemented to the plate. Ah, but the strawberries, gleefully flush in the snow!

December morning

A new white backdrop for the Christmas tree lights. I look under the streetlamp for a gentle descent, but it plummets, straight and sharp.

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Apparently the real snow is in the Bay Area. (Thanks to Maria for the link. If you can't come to Boston, Boston will come to you!)

Yoga after work

We've stacked our plates, thoracic over respiratory over pelvic, aligned, twisted, backbent, forebent, released. Resting in savasana, we think only of... dinner.

Charged

[Front window; 8:45am, 11/21/08]

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Dreams vaporize on waking, zapped by microwaves of mental chatter; the voltaic sun too staticky for a flimsy morning mist.

Music from the gutter

Beyond the computer hum and droning radio news, the rain gutter sings staccato over low grumbling wind, the fitful ting of chimes keeping time.