Yesterday it was close to 60--and sunny. It was warm in the sun, but the breeze still has the deep, wet chill of winter. I could feel it nosing around. If you were busy--raking, for example--you didn't feel it. But pause, and there it was, trying to find a way in.

Sitting at the window this morning, thinking about yesterday, I realized how odd it felt to be outside for a good part of the day.  Inside for most of three months, I did not understand how used I was to walls, to my usual routes to this room and that. To the routine of being inside.  Thinking about that, I saw that in a real way, even while I was outside I was still inside, for I carried the walls, the sense of moving from one room to another, with me. I was in the bubble of the winter months. Outside, I was still in my chair behind the double-glass, looking.

Unlike the children from up the block who came bursting out of their house on their bikes, taller, stronger, the same yet different from three months ago, finally not cooped up, I was more like the winter breeze, sniffing the world, trying to figure out where I was.

Here's Yeats:

An aged man is but a paltry thing,
A tattered coat upon a stick, unless
Soul clap its hands and sing, and louder sing
For every tatter in its mortal dress,
Nor is there singing school but studying
Monuments of its own magnificence;
And therefore I have sailed the seas and come
To the holy city of Byzantium.

At the window this morning, I saw that I was that "paltry thing," that "coat upon a stick," in a world flying away from me in every direction.  Let's see if I can find, once again, the holy city.
Allan DiBiase
3/30/2013 01:49:56 am

the north side

plenty of cold snow there

also, despite a fairly late start, great light

the intricate beauty of what we can see should not fail to help us distinguish the artificial.... it's a criterion one can use to judge one's life. Make an adjustment.

I think I could do worse than to bring my life into accord with the natural world.

Truly coming back to where things began.


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