Sunday, September 12, 2010
Home alone this afternoon after an amazing night with amazing friends. I was just now standing in the kitchen, waiting for the coffee to boil, looking out the window at the warm/cool blue sky. I remember about four years ago, sitting on my deck, probably sometime in April. The air was warm for the first time that year, but it was a chilly warmth. That kind of Spring day where you get a little blast of warmth when the sun shines bright, but feel quite cold when the breeze kicks up.
In celebration of the sun, I grabbed a beer, my book and my blue jacket, and positioned myself to read, with cold fingers, for the afternoon. I was reading 'A Tree Grows in Brooklyn' for the second time in my life, and busy comparing in my mind, the feelings it created in me now, compared to the feelings I felt when I was a kid. The sun burned momentarily, so I threw my head back to take it in, and saw a single, orange balloon floating in the sky, dancing higher and higher in the wind. For some reason I couldn't take my eyes of that balloon, and followed it almost compulsively, until it was nearly too small to see, then completely out of sight.