Wednesday, 28 September 2011

New Things

I like this house.  I like that when I come inside I get to go upstairs instead of down.  I like the enormous windows in my room.  I like the way the late afternoon sun shines through them and gives me a couple hours of cheery warmth and light during peak homework time.  I like the cast iron radiators that remind me of the house we lived in for a couple months when I was four.  I like the piano in the dining room.  I like the backyard and the little deck and the clothesline and my birdfeeder.  I'm even learning to like the peculiar music of the squeaky creaky staircase.

I like this neighbourhood.  I like the cats who sunbathe on our deck.  I like how many people in the area have dogs.  I like the sound of my neighbour's kids playing outside most afternoons.  I like the delicious aroma that drifts over from the Ben's bakery down the street.  I like hearing all the different church bells ring on Sunday mornings, creating the comforting small town feel of home.

I like this song.
I like the way it twines itself around my brain.  I like the way I find myself drumming my fingers to the melody.  I like the way those haunting lyrics show up in my thoughts when I'm not expecting them.

Saturday, 17 September 2011

Change of season

Three nights ago I awoke, sweating, the oppressive humidity clinging to me even after I had thrown off the blankets.  I staggered, half-asleep, to crack open the window, the cool air recalling distant days of dragging blankets off my bed to make a soft nest where I could lie in front of the fan, gaining enough reprieve from the heat to drift back to sleep.  It was the heat of summer, of childhood.

The following night I fell asleep to the sound of rain, falling gently but steadily, washing everything away - the humidity, the stress, the loneliness - cleaning the palette for a fresh start.  I awoke next morning to the bluster of the winds of change as they blew a new world in through my windows.

This morning I awoke shivering, clutching the blankets closer and seeking warmth in the forgetfulness of sleep.  I was forced to give in, closing the windows again, and pulling on a fall sweater to run some morning errands.  Living my grown-up life in my grown-up clothes, I thought with a sigh of the childhood heat, regretting, as always, the reality of autumn.