Open Window Nights
I’ve been exceedingly lucky. For the last week or so, I’ve been able to throw all the windows in my domicile wide open at dusk. It’s a rare treat. Too often, the air is too cold. Too often the air is hot and dank. But...every so often...the air is just right.
My windows remained thrown open as breezes coursed from south to north, tickling me (for I lay naked) as they scurried about in their vagrant breeze/James Dean-ish way. I listened to cascading rain. I had once made love to an amazing woman as raindrops entertained and the air felt fresh and wholesome. The scent, today, remains the same. The raindrops no less entertaining. But, tonight I’m alone. Funny how everything stayed the same while everything changed.
Doves coo in the distance.
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posted by Jonas | 6/14/2010 11:53:00 PM
8 Comments:
Change seems to be the only constant in life.
ummm,
doves coo in the distance.
xo
erin
Scent and sound are the biggest collectors of memory. That beautiful lovemaking can be held in raindrops makes me happy, that they can revisit you, even having traveled far, soaked through roots, evaporated to air, collected in heavens and descended again in a rain of rememberance. That you lay naked in that memory solidifies your earlier words about staying open to old love...door always open. The whole thing was a beautiful image to me. Thank you. And really....is this your domicile, this photo? It so, you lucky lucky man! It is enchanting.
This post evokes, as many of yours do, images in my mind.... complete with sounds and scents and sensations... very lovely.
change... change... change... a blessing and a curse --- such is the paradox of change....
loveNlight
Gabi
I love the fingers of the wind against my skin. I say right out loud, "thank you."
"I'm stripping down to truth and bone." - Jonas
Just revisited that post.
Thank you for the savory comments!
And, no, Annie - that is an Internet image. My home is a rather prosaic tract house surrounded by corn fields.
That's kinda the heart of the matter, isn't it, Kass? As we age we tend to distill our lives, begin pondering what it all meant/means. There's a post germinating in my brain pot about this...
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