hummingwolf (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
hummingwolf) wrote2005-03-06 05:45 pm
hummingwolf) wrote2005-03-06 05:45 pm
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If Spring isn't here yet, she's lurking around the corner, crouched under a tree, giggling into her hand. She'll be out of hiding soon. She can't help herself: she wants to show off her green dress and the pretty flowers in her hair.
I hadn't been out of the house since Thursday, resting and trying to recover from this everlasting infection. Today a craving for potato chips drove me out of the house to walk about a mile total. Old lady Winter is tiring of keeping little Spring in check, but that's okay. Winter may have the chance to show off a little more of her icy artwork before going into retirement, but she can retire secure in the knowledge that she has done her work well. (Tomorrow's predicted high: 61 degrees. Tuesday: Chance of rain mixed with snow. Chances of more snow Friday & Saturday. Yep, the seasons' struggle may go on a while.)
There's something I want to say, but I haven't found the words yet. Do you ever have times when you need to find the words of others before you can uncover your own? I've been devouring words as well as I can, but my diet still seems to be deficient in something. I want to tell you what something isn't like and what it is like because I can't say what it is. But there still need to be more words before I can do even that.
Some visitors had a conversation in the dining room of the type I love to share, but I was too tired to say more than a feeble hello. "Tired" is my main descriptive word right now. The main sound effect is "thud." At least I'm coughing less. Many afterimages are superimposed on anything I look at, which distracts me too much when trying to read. Oh, but sleep would be a good thing.
Crocuses have popped up beside the sidewalk out front. The trees are glowing gold in late afternoon sun, bare branches against a sky of pale blue fading to paler pinkish-gold. A bag of potato chips is waiting for me to start munching. Celtic music is on NPR. Life could be worse.
I hadn't been out of the house since Thursday, resting and trying to recover from this everlasting infection. Today a craving for potato chips drove me out of the house to walk about a mile total. Old lady Winter is tiring of keeping little Spring in check, but that's okay. Winter may have the chance to show off a little more of her icy artwork before going into retirement, but she can retire secure in the knowledge that she has done her work well. (Tomorrow's predicted high: 61 degrees. Tuesday: Chance of rain mixed with snow. Chances of more snow Friday & Saturday. Yep, the seasons' struggle may go on a while.)
There's something I want to say, but I haven't found the words yet. Do you ever have times when you need to find the words of others before you can uncover your own? I've been devouring words as well as I can, but my diet still seems to be deficient in something. I want to tell you what something isn't like and what it is like because I can't say what it is. But there still need to be more words before I can do even that.
Some visitors had a conversation in the dining room of the type I love to share, but I was too tired to say more than a feeble hello. "Tired" is my main descriptive word right now. The main sound effect is "thud." At least I'm coughing less. Many afterimages are superimposed on anything I look at, which distracts me too much when trying to read. Oh, but sleep would be a good thing.
Crocuses have popped up beside the sidewalk out front. The trees are glowing gold in late afternoon sun, bare branches against a sky of pale blue fading to paler pinkish-gold. A bag of potato chips is waiting for me to start munching. Celtic music is on NPR. Life could be worse.
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Do you ever have times when you need to find the words of others before you can uncover your own?
somewhere in one of my old hand-written journals, there is a page with this *exact* sentence on it. there were many years of my life where i think that was what i was doing... searching out and storing up words for things i wanted to say.
i told someone once that it was a little bit like wandering through the woods gathering things to use as pigment - so that i could make my own paintings in nature's colours, to show how i saw it all.
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