Dear earth,
I'm sorry I have forgotten you so quickly. It used to be all you all the time, and you've probably wondered where I've gone. Inside, for starters. It hurts me just as much as it hurts you...the fluorescent lights, the manufactured air, the unnatural white/beige color scheme, the hushed voices and subdued movements. There will never be enough windows to remind me how it FEELS to be outside.
You've been trying to catch my attention, I know. Last night, as I walked from class to class, I saw the sky, startled into seeing by its boldness, and I remembered how I used to say good morning to the sky and eat my lunch under its watch. And walking to a meeting in the dark, you made the crickets shout...how long had they been going before I noticed, because when I did--what a din!
I'd like to promise that I will be more faithful. I cannot.
For now,
cath
3 comments:
I loved your last post. So funny.
I can't say that I feel indebted to the earth like you. She burns me everytime I go outside, and worse than that, she gives me heat exhaustion (at least it feels that way). Maybe I will forgive her when she decides that clouds are still a part of her vocabulary.
Oh cath--in the perfect world that exists in my mind--you are always outside! And I come out there with you after I wake up from my nap.
Love your blog...
Post a Comment