As I write this, the sky has opened and the rain is falling relentlessly. I keep thinking that if I had been 10 minutes slower on my walk to the shops, I would have been caught in it and my fluffy coat that people keep telling me how much they like would have gotten soaked and I probably would have been annoyed and then I probably would have gotten over it.
(more…)Tag: Little Things
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Green Rooms
So far, in June, I’ve bought 5 plants. One is called a string of turtles, another is a cactus, and one is a ficus. I don’t know the names of the other two but they are green, and lush, and alive. I shouldn’t have bought so many plants; I don’t even have room for them. They sit on my windowsill and table tops and radiators like too many cramped guests. I don’t know how to take care of plants either. I keep thinking they’re going to die because they wither or turn yellow or curl up or the leaves drop off completely but somehow they don’t. I want to believe that nothing really dies if you wish hard enough but I know that isn’t true. Most things die; many things die. Still, sometimes we get lucky. Sometimes life is forgiving.
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Chimney Smoke
It’s the time of the year where it’s possible to smell chimney smoke again. Last week, when I was in Glencoe, I looked out the window and saw a row of white houses set against a backdrop of rolling hills, chimney smoke rising into the air. Everything felt warmer after that.
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An Ice Cream Cone
On the first day of spring, I bought myself a cookie dough flavoured ice cream cone. I almost didn’t. I almost kept walking past the shop, and round the corner, and all the way back to my apartment. But then I thought, why not. Why not get an ice cream cone when it’s beautiful outside, and it’s Saturday, and I would love nothing more than to sit on this bench and join the millions of people, somewhere in the world, probably eating ice cream right this second?
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Memories, Collected
Someone in the apartment next to mine was playing Danny Boy on the guitar last night. That’s what I fell asleep listening to.
Then today, when I was working away at my desk, I heard someone practicing their scales on the piano.
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Flower and Flour
I bought myself tulips the other day. Lavender ones – pale and pretty. The kind that would make me smile if I saw them neatly sitting on a windowsill. The kind that would inspire thoughts of one day, that’ll be me if I saw a girl walking down the street, carrying them in her arms.
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These Moments, Too
I hear a plane flying above me, somewhere in the pure sky. There are birds chirping, somewhere in the trees. And in between all these things, somewhere in the deep folds of the universe, there’s me. I’m not doing anything spectacular – not jumping on overnight bus journeys and waking up in new cities, or trying new foods with names I can’t pronounce, or climbing volcanoes at sunrise – I’m just here, quietly existing in my own little way.
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Sounds I’ve Heard From My Window
I’ve been sitting by my window every day for the past three months. It’s quiet at times, noisy at others. When it’s quiet, the only sound is the clicking of my computer. And when it’s noisy, it’s like a symphony’s out there playing a private performance just for me.
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Things I Learned Growing Up 