Sunday, November 16, 2008

One Fall Sunday

I'm lying in bed, listening to the wind chimes. They are giving me an unusually superb concert, this morning. These chimes were a gift from someone who barely knows us, a woman who hasn't even seen us for about 16 years. I love them. Serena is sleeping beside me, then rubbing her ears and walking over me, restless, not really hungry for breakfast, just bored. I know the feeling. Then, it occurs to me that I am hungry. Still, I lie here. I've promised myself to get something done today. The wind chime plays on, and for some reason, it becomes possible, in my mind, that as heavy as the Sunday paper is, it could very well blow away in this weather.

That gets me up. What gets you up in the morning? Fear that the newspaper will blow away, of course. Especially the Sunday paper, with all the coupons and special features. Can't let that get away. As I rise, I pet the cat, and instantly burst into song. Four strong winds that blow lonely, seven seas that run high, all those things that don't change, come what may--still I wish you'd change your mind if I asked you one more time, but we've been through that a hundred times or more....Why the heck am I singing a song I haven't heard for half a lifetime? Why am I singing?? (and picking such a downer song.)

Since I'm going out to get the paper, I suppose I might as well put on real clothes. It's not really cold. That's good. Make the coffee, look out the back window, and notice that our backyard neighbors have an ever-growing pile of leaves in their backyard, but I've never seen them rake. Then, I watch the wind. The leaves on their maple tree are blowing off and landing in a pile. That is so unfair. I know that these leaves are from their maple tree, because their maple tree is much yellower than ours. And the leaves in that pile are bright yellow.

I check the email, read over Ekim's interesting Tokyo update, then go back to check on the boiling of my eggs, which I like to have, if I have time to do that, and realize that I did not make coffee. I threw away one can, opened another, spooned coffee in the maker, but never added water or plugged the thing in. I must have been distracted by our neighbor's wondrous automatic leaf pile. I'll get something done today, yup.

Look! The sun is coming out. Oh, never mind, it's rained all day yesterday, it was sometimes torrential. It's a pretty day, though, in a watercolored dark sort of way.


Cheesemeister said...

As I work nights, I generally go to bed in the morning! What gets me up in the evening is the horror of the never-ending bills.
That's a beautiful photo.

actonbell said...

Thank you, Cheesemeister:)

Doug said...

Maples hate us for our freedom.

TLP said...

You write so well. I love it.

What gets me up is the thought of coffee. And knowing on most days that I don't have to get dressed or get out early.

Balou said...

I agree with TLP - you are an exceptional writer.

This gray Sunday morning I was awoken by a 92 pound German Shepherd licking and head rubbing my hands that were outstretched over the side of the bed.

Ariel the Thief said...

Beautiful photo!!

Finally I know why I like your writings so much. Not just because they are good.

cooper said...

Actually that morning in bed sounds luscious but I understand the fear of the morning paper blowing away. ;)

tsduff said...

A perfect picture for a perfect narrative. I was there with you for most of it :D

Since losing my job, I lay in bed far to late in the day, and my Sweetie & I argue about who should be bringing who the coffee which we are both longing for. Where's the maid anyway?