It rained. Early this morning, for about one hour. Not enough but, the sound of it! And it cleared the air a bit, the physical one, the brown smelly smoke plume from the fires 50 km away from here and the sticky angry one between us two stubborn humans. This summer has been so awful most of the time. I am exhausted.
Piglet sidled up to Pooh from behind.
“Pooh!” he whispered.
“Yes, Piglet?”
“Nothing,” said Piglet, taking Pooh’s paw. “I just wanted to be sure of you.”
A.A. Milne (The House at Pooh Corner)
Nothing like when that stuck air finally just moves on through and you can be easy again. That scene with Piglet and Pooh is one of my favorites.
ReplyDeleteReminds me of reaching over to lightly touch my sleeping husband just to know he's truly there.
ReplyDeleteEven not-enough rain is a blessing and a promise.
We need rain, any amount would be welcome. The ground is cracking. No smoke to clear out but the air could use a good cleaning. The farmers have been harvesting the corn and starting on the cotton throwing dust in the air. At least the air inside between our two bodies is currently clear.
ReplyDeleteThank goodness for the rain! Sending love.
ReplyDeleteI can relate to that quote.
ReplyDeleteI always loved that Winnie-the-Pooh quote.
ReplyDeleteThis summer has been hard on everyone's nerves, certainly on our side of the world.
How awful it sounds, not just the heat but the smokey, stale air.
ReplyDeleteI love the quote. Here in Montreal, Canada it has been a very hot and humid 😳 😫 summer.
ReplyDeleteDangerous stuff, writing about weather. Even though it's a dominant factor your thoughts have more potential. Your non-weather thoughts that is. I apologise for neglecting your blog but for the last eighteen months I have borne other fardels. Which is a shame; you're a cleverclogs like me and you're not afraid of being predominant. You've given me hell, usually about smallish cock-ups but you've also paid me compliments... from time to time, that is.
ReplyDeleteNone of which matters. Did you realise, your writing style has changed over those eighteen months. Describing the difference would require hard work on my part and there's every chance that you wouldn't respond. Always the cruellest weapon in the blogger's arsenal - silence.
My wife died recently. I too have changed, arguably less of a contumacious bastard. I was never just a singleon, as I imagined; it was us rather than me. Loneliness proves the point, except it it arrives in different forms; on occasion it clears the decks and allows a different angle. I've never been too sure of my abilities with poetry; I came to it late in life. Yet poetry's indirectness allowed me different words. Poetry led me into new byways as I looked down on her now tranquil face, for she had suffered greatly, had wanted to die. A true dilemma for any married person. I saw a kind of mirror image, not surprising since yesterday I became ninety-one and the end can't be far off.
And yet... and yet... Ten minutes ago I also thought: wonder what Sabine's up to.
By the way, I've only just realised that A. A. Milne is far more profound than I realised. Eg, Lords of the nursery.
Roddy, thank you, as always your thoughts are much appreciated. Belated congratulations on turning 91, whatever goes on in life, it is an achievement and a gift to reach this age, you will make the most of it. Loneliness is a task, a challenge, maybe also a gift? I am struggling here. I have read your posts about V, moving and honest and as much as I hate the word closure, I hope with the writing you get some of it.
DeleteBut there's more, yes? My writing style? Didn't even think I had one, so do explain. You are the writer, I am messing about in a second language as an outlet of, what? I forget.
I was recently accused of bullying on my blog, as did another much cherished blogger who had written a comment on the post in question. This lead to a bit of a unwanted hassle for her and for the first and last time I took down a post, shaking my head in wonder, protecting my miniscule readership. I better stop now as I may be accused of further crimes.
I noticed the change immediately but it will take time to put it into words. Nevertheless I will do so; an evolving style is a rare gift; to some extent it also dictates what we say. When you've got a moment carefully re-read some of your earlier posts and compare; see if you can isolate the strands of word choice, recognisable rhythms, use of irony, what's been deliberately omitted, and reaching out towards the reader. And then, if you feel ambitious, write a post about the process. I know you have the ability and you will, at least, be guaranteed one attentive reader.
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