Wednesday, September 14, 2011

I'll be a cloud, and you the moon

These words caught me today, gracing the corner of a packet of green jasmine tea.  Of course, it is I who will be the moon and you the cloud, but come that as it may; nonetheless, we shall illuminate each other. Could it have been that only two days ago every window in my house was cast open, letting warm blue moonlight spill freely upon the soft, rosy satin of my oaken floors?  Ah, it was only then, indeed.  And what other sweetnesses have I known...

It's cold tonight, there's no denying.  After the heat of the past weekend--the last of summer--it's a slightly somber change...the chill not just of autumn, but of winter, in the air... Inside the newly painted kitchen, huddled on around and under the table, sit all my freshly potted houseplants--ivy, jade, spider, the sapphire tower and others--among their outdoor cousins--hibiscus, impatiens, passionflower, lemongrass, more...the house has become heavy with the fragrance of datura blossoms, and quiet.  No wind whistling through the screen, no August crickets standing by to hum the night away.  Outside the back door, a small banana tree and two twining mandevillas have taken shelter under a rainfly, draped in batiks... It's cold tonight, but we'll get through this one, and the one after, with a little hope, some good luck and a light breeze.  We're not there just yet.  More to come...