WHITE HOT SKY
Yes, it’s so hot the sky is an opaque white. I’d kill for some thunderclouds about now. I’ve been home a few days and I’m seeing how much has changed in just a few short weeks away. The chicory is at full height, its lavender blue sundial faces reach for the slides of my car as I drive down the highway. They are the onlookers cheering me in my “Welcome Home” parade. The milkweed is in full bloom, be still my heart! So many lovely butterflies flit about that I can’t possibly describe them all. I’m still high from my time in Denver, the orchestra still swirls in my ears.
I’m in the tiny in-between of getting acclimated to home and going back in the studio. It’s a precious, fleeting few days. I’m happy to report that Dennis the cat is still with us and feels like part of the family now. He loves to beat the shit out of my flip flops and has a very loud meow. It’s funny to look over and see a furry little speckled trout wrestling my shoes. The horses are miserably hot. They try to pretend it doesn’t bother them but it does. I hose them down to give them some relief. My dahlias are about to open. I’m so thrilled I’m not going to miss it this year. I hate to miss the blooming of things, but it’s the price you pay when you travel for your job.
The musical is coming along as is the record. I just got galleys of my book in the mail which feels so surreal. It’s weird when you are at a place where you just work and work and work and the needle never seems to move. The books were like thunderclouds and a bright shower for me yesterday. I drive back and forth into town and work on random chores. One thing hasn’t changed; I drive past the same single boot perched on the highway guardrail at the edge of town that has been here for a couple months. It looks like it went down (and stayed down) with the Titanic. It actually looks rusty and you’d expect an eel to pop out of it at any second. Is this one of the things I will remember crystal clear someday when the names of my loved ones have faded?
Dennis takes recycling very seriously.
Nothing much to report in mid winter Adelaide, the opposite of Vermont in many ways. I had a Potteresque thought/dream that a manky old boot is a wizards portkey and all the good folks of the world could zap over for a coffee . I am of course waking up to the reality of working today, with grief and domestic violence survivors. How they would like a magic wand to banish the cruel crap of life.
I always smile as I read your substack, is that strange. If it is that's the strange I NEED. 🙏
I smiled so big when you reported on Dennis, and again when I saw his picture. I love your descriptions of nature so much. When your book and your new music are here, I will feel about them the way you describe feeling about seeing the dahlias bloom.