Monday, October 09, 2006

Me

After months of harvest and field burning, the sunrise this morning was pure, the sky a clear blue without its usual scar of clouds. The trees still cling to their green leaves, but not for much longer. Last week was eighty, today my breath is on display. I drove around town as the sun came up, watching the light cascade down buildings, trees, grain elevators on their last legs. The empty sky means there will be wind, a palouse, what this region was named for. Trees will shed their leaves. Squirrels will hide in the lee of buildings, chimneys, thick trees. Today, I will watch as my roof resounds with the feet of animals, coat my throat with hot tea, read Gl├╝ck. Today, when the Palouse is perfect, I will dream of Seattle, of home. Not because I want badly to be there, but because when I was there, I was without the responsibilities bringing me down here. This fall day will be appropriately somber and breathtaking. I promise.

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