Clear, clear blue skies, in that silver hour of dusk. And yet dusk is the wrong word- because it is clear, so clear. And the city shines, each window pouring out light. Not twinkling, but steadily pouring forth light. Like looking into brilliant steady eyes.
On the bridge over the river that I ride on each day to and from work, where I think every day as I look south to the city I really must bring my camera along and take a photo of this great view of the city... there were 4 or 5 photographers with fancy cameras and tripods capturing this brilliant night. I have never seen photographers there before; it cemented in my mind that tonight the city really was special.
And I thought, how can I ever leave the city life? It really is exciting. I passed a storefront with flashing lights where through the floor to ceiling windows I could see a fashion show, men and women dressed in fancy black. How could I ever leave this behind, everything that I wouldn't even know I was missing, if I lived a simple country life?
I narrate everything in my head with Ira Glass' voice right now; I've been listening to archives of This American Life at work constantly for the past two days.
Fall makes me feel lonely, even when I am not. It makes me want to sit next to people on public transportation, to cuddle my guineas more, and seek out friends. My blood is thick; I sleep deep when it is cold outside, I overheat easily in the summer. I feel revitalized in the cold. Alive, and clear. Fall is for hot chocolate, reading books late into the night, hot oatmeal, and late nights drinking whiskey and tequila with friends. The colors deepen to purples and golds. Nights without humidity make the city shine.
Now this is living.
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