Projects, spreading
Walking from St. Giles to the Dominion Cinema to go see a movie with Andrew this afternoon, I realized: Spring is trying to be here. It was raining when I left home this morning, and the wind was so strong that it knocked over some chain fences from the construction on Jonston Terrace. I was lost in the insular world of the bottom of my umbrella, watching my feet. I didn’t see that the fences were down until they came upon me, blocking my way. I looked up to find two small women pushing them back up, holding up the weight of them to let themselves through, and I saw that they were stood there, waiting for me to participate. I thought initially that they needed my help, but as we went I saw that they were allowing me through the opening, keeping me from having to turn back around, double-back to where I could cross over to the other side of the street. We walked about 100 metres that way together, moving over each other to hold up sections ahead of us, tunneling our way between fence and the stone of the wall on the other side. When we finished, we laid the fence down again, thanked each other, and parted. I thought, there is a poem in this. There is an insight into life in this. How we carry what has fallen. How we lift it up – off of – and over – one another. How we encourage others to pass through the thick of it, despite the weight or risk.
In the afternoon, the rain had parted to clouds and sunshine, and the brisk walk across town made it too hot for jackets, even for sweaters. We walked through the city in t-shirts, even though the backs of our arms quickly cooled. We held onto one another to retain some heat, but refused to miss the air’s attempt at warmth.
Tonight, it’s really windy. And I can’t help but think that this is how Spring appears in Scotland. In other places, Spring is a rainy season, a season of cleansing and nourishing with water what is trying to grow. Scottish Spring needs something harder to clear the air: a rough wind that rattles our windows and chases out the ghosts. Something to strengthen what is trying to grow.
At home, so many things drawing my attention. My days are filling up for the upcoming week. My living room table, now desk, is strewn with the spread of new projects: letters, notebooks, poetry, mining, posters from the Bartholomew map exhibit to send to relatives, postcards, music, my piano, writing. Sketchings. An amiable juggle of my reliable things: the things that fulfil and fill me, and make me happiest.
How I am this lucky?
Goodnight, T.
Awake & Asleep 