The tiny new leaves all went from reddish-brown to green in the same few days. Rude of the trees to talk among themselves and no one else, for that's the only likely reason for such militaristic coordination.
Today was almost uniformly cloudy, composed, as it seemed to me, mainly of lumpy billows first, and hazy fluff later. As the sun descended through that drowsy latter layer, it made its first really notable appearance of the day, flaring red through the haze, showing it for the feeble stuff it was. But how pitiful the timing -- why show one's strength when its time is all but past? For the beauty of it, I now suppose. And my three seconds' observation, wincing against the unexpected glare, didn't really do that beauty justice. As it goes, less than a minute later, the moment was well past. Sensible, that, for I've known only a few moments that were spun out over more than a few seconds, and most of those involved moonlight and some of its better-known associates.
I wish now I'd gone to the beach, to mark this break with a unique experience. There was too much pride in that decision, and a pinch of unreasonable miserliness. At the least it would've thoroughly fragmented the stream of college visits and job applications.
In the beginning was the void, and out of the void God rendered cheese. And he showed the cheese to man, saying, "Honor me through this, my creation." Thus man knew cheese, and from it he fashioned the likeness of a church.
I remember freshman year, too, and all the music and feelings and people that were then, and not now. And even though things are better now, a part of me still misses those times, when high school was a new place, with new faces everywhere I looked. There's always real merit to the past; overall improvement still brings regression in some areas.
posted on Sunday, April 11, 2004
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