Random Beauty
I miss the sun and spending time outside. My commute was put into fair yet somewhat brutal terms by my younger daughter, who, when I was pondering why driving seems so onerous to me, pointed out that I spend an hour closed in a metal box, only to arrive home and go into another box. It's a colorful image, I'll grant her, but, oh, it's sticking too much in my imagination.
If someone came up to me on a street corner, handed me a ticket and reservations for Mexico, I'd be on my way, almost no questions asked. Just to hear the ocean would be good. Perhaps tomorrow I'll go to the bookstore and buy a few nature CD's: perhaps a thunderstorm, sounds of the rain forest, and waves washing onto the beach. I'll open a window, turn up the heat, and pretend that it's summer.
One of my favorite parties ever: the Summer is Coming party, held in February in Ohio by good friends who are smart and creative and eclectic. They turn the heat up high, ask everyone to come dressed in summer attire (Hawian shirts are de rigeur but the adventurous wear bathing suits), and serve food and drink for a hot July. The best part: a continuous audio loop of our friend, saying to his wife, " Marcia, it's so hot. . . ."
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