There’s been one, a change, the heat here after a long period of rain, and mornings the air is laden with rich coastal air (John’s comment as he came in from the deck an hour ago with the coffee pot which had been left out overnight…). I love the cool hour before the sun rises and the scent of sweet peas fills the morning.
I multiply on the face of
the earth, on the
mud—I can see my prints on the sweet bluish mud—where I was just
standing and reaching to see if
those really were blossoms, I thought perhaps paper
from wind, & the sadness in
me is that of forced parting, as when I loved a personal
love, which now seems unthinkable, & I look at
the gate, how open it is...
--Jorie Graham, from "Sea Change"
