sensitive
Fog over the lake. I inhale a fishy smell -- not the ocean but something of the water nonetheless. Who knew I could recognize the difference in fishy smells? I am grateful for it. I have been mildly depressed, not at all focused now, not at all at work, for all the entries that I do. And today, I could cry if slightly knocked. I could last night as well, but no knocks, no tears. Three women on the bus. I could not hear what they were saying, but one trying to set a weekend time for two of them. She was slightly ethnic. I imagined that she is lonely here, few friends, with little to do on the weekends. She was 'romancing' the older, very settled looking woman into lunch or a movie or shopping or some other mundane activity. And the older woman agreed, and the younger woman smiled for the rest of the journey.
I never have the right coat here. I am sure no one notices, or do they. Does my winter jacket on a day when I should have a slightly lined rain coat mark me as a newcomer? Rain coats with shawls, jackets with scarves, some hats. I see the layering that I will learn with time.
Walking the three blocks from the art institute to the court house, smells are everywhere. The air, foggy with some purity that makes baking muffins, donuts, lovely coffee, McDonald's grease single lines of an music. Each wrapping around my head as if in a cartoon and then fading.
I have spent my three days a week here every week since July and I know so very little. This is not home, just some infatuation of place. And home is not home, just where we wound up. But home is where we have built a life, restored a house, raised our child. And this is a city whose pulse I love, in whose arms I could be comfortable.
I want answers to my questions. I want focus. I want my goals without doing much to bring them about. And I am very fragile today. A breeze could move me.
posted by Suz @ 9:32 AM
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