Summer and Rain

Last week, it felt like spring. Now the weather is chilly again, and I just want warm evenings and flowers. So since I can't have them. I'm writing them.


In addition, I've been working on a story for my book. I'm not sure what I think of it right now. I've complained about Charles Dickens and his habit of over-description (though some of his descriptions are the best parts of his books. I'll never forget "her nose was sharper than an autumn wind.") and I feel like I may be doing the very thing I've complained about. Then again, if Dickens did it, maybe I can get away with it too. Let me know what you think. My comments have been pretty lonely lately...

B minor, sustained
Pink petals fall soft
brushing lightly shoulders and lips,
drifting laughter floats through liquid light-
captured in a net of golden pollen,
resting on perfumed air full of
chirping crickets and sparkling fireflies
singing for you, and me, and the night.

Moment
When you hold my hand
Gold of dusk, Navy of dawn
meet between fingers



Change and Coffee


I love watching storms creep up on they city. Grey walls and grey towers meet grey skies with a bang that releases the deluge. Sheer sheets of grey fill streets and dull the usually vibrant colors that permeate Baltimore on its' smoggy, sunny days.

However, standing on a city street at that moment is an entirely different experience. I could smell the stench of mold and mildew that saturates the harbor air when the humidity rises, even above it's usual mugginess. The dew point feels like it is literally about to be reached, and spontaneous droplets may appear over the cars, street signs, and people.

Fumbling through my purse, in search of change I hoped the rain would hold off long enough for me to make it to my destination. I knew I had scads of change, but when you're looking for change in a hurry, you will never find any. Engrossed in my desperate search, I didn't notice him until he spoke to me. And it was only the years of experience with brothers sneaking up on me that kept me from jumping out of my skin when he asked from beside me "Looking for change, miss?"

I looked up and laughed, my default response when I'm not sure quite what's going on. "Yes I am! The sky is about to fall on my head, and I would like to avoid that if at all possible!"

He chuckled, and I took a moment to assess the situation. He was short, tight curls of black and grey rose from his wrinkled head. His jovial grin was missing several teeth and of the few that remained, most were dull metallics. His old eyes crinkled with the force of his smile, almost as much as his too big clothes crinkled over his too thin body. Despite the signs of wear and disrepair, the prominent feeling he exuded was joy.

If I actually had change, I would offer it to this guy. He's clearly about to get rained on, and he's still smiling. Shoot! I need to find some change, pay for parking, and get inside before it starts raining- I'm not sure I"ll keep smiling if I get soaked today! Ugh, but I'm going to feel bad getting my coffee after NOT giving this guy some change. And now I feel kind of bad for being mad that this guy.... Okay, stop. You only have a credit card, and a little bit of change SOMEWHERE. And it doesn't matter. This guy is not going to hate you for life if you don't give him a dollar. Oh! And maybe I can get cash back at the coffee shop and find him later. Okay, change, change, change...

I resume digging through my purse, making small talk about how I would loose my head if it wasn't attached, you never find things when you look for them, and if you do it's always the last spot- because if you kept looking, that would just be silly. Cliches fall from my lips easily and I honestly like this guy who smiles and chuckles under skies that don't threaten, but promise a chilly and wet end to the day.

Finally, I look at the sky and groan- "I'm gonna get wet, aren't I?"

He laughs, reaches a hand in his dingy pocket "I got this" he smiles

"No," I laugh, "I have change somewhere, it's just a matter of finding it!"

"No, I got this one." He says smiling but firm and begins to feed my meter.

My first impulse is to argue. I'm here for coffee, on a whim. He's here because he doesn't have anywhere else. I'm going to leave and get warm cloths, a nice bed. I don't know his exact situation, but a change of cloths seems as unlikely as a comfortable bed. But I look at him, still smiling warmly, nodding at passers by. He has a sort of dignity in this moment, and I need to let go of my pride, because it's clearly me, not him that has an issue with this.

"Okay, I guess you have more change than I do right now! Thanks for the help!"

"Not a problem, now get inside before you get rained on!" We laugh, together, in a busy street of people passing each other by. Then join the masses, going our inevitable separate ways.

I make it to the coffee shop, just ahead of the downpour.