It's just about the prettiest day we've had in months. The sky's like an overturned blue porcelain rice bowl, impossibly high and dark overhead and shading to the palest blue at the horizon, scribbled in cryptic ideoglyphs by a scant few lost clouds and wavering contrails; as a motorcycle buzzrumbles by outside the fence, I know what they mean: Sun's callin'. Get out here. Have some fun.
I cannot. Most of my day has been and will be spent in a windowless office. But my heart? My heart's still 14 or 13, gazing over sunny roofs and tree-lined back yards out the third-story windows of the Art classroom, seeing the birds soar and dreaming of escape.
I'd like to dish up some prime snark on the Declining State Of Things (Balkanization* Now!). Can't. Maybe later!
Update: So, I got off work early ('cos I started early) and came home to go riding and...it started raining. Hmpf. There was a kind of a break in the rain (and the worst of the salt and oil had a chance to go to the gutters) , so I went out and around until it began to rain in serious earnest and added another entire mile to this year's time in the saddle. Ooo. Well, better than nothin'.
* Delightfully, Blogger's spellcheck thinks this should be "Vulcanization!" How illogical.
T. R. MCELROY'S STREAMLINED TELEGRAPH KEYS
1 year ago