August 26: Rustling
Aug. 26th, 2010 10:49 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
neverspentThe weather today was... delicious. Like when someone is cooking something that smells amazing, and they give you a little taste, just the tip of the wooden spoon. The morning was a temperature you could legitimately call cool -- not enough to make you want to wear long sleepve, but enough to make you take deep breaths because it was refreshing. In the afternoon, it was warm, but with a good breeze, so that I opened my apartment windows and took a nap on my bed, naked under the ceiling fan, and at some point I pulled the edge of the quilt over me loosely. The weather won't stay this way, but it's a taste of relief to come.
I think the loveliest thing was related to the breeze. I was out with my cat on the balcony, he selecting the tenderest blades of stray grass for a snack of roughage, and I snapping a few pictures. And the millet, which didn't suffer at all from the drought while I was away and in fact seems taller and greener and thicker than ever where it sprouted next to the patio tomato, rustled in the breeze. I wouldn't have noticed, because the traffic was loud and everything else that could rustle was rustling, too, mainly the giant sweet gum tree whose branches extend to within a few feet of my balcony. But the millet made a sound unlike anything else around. Coarse rustling, like corn stalks or dried marsh grass. It's a sound that doesn't belong up here, but here it is, evoking open spaces, broad skies, a beautiful loneliness.
I think the loveliest thing was related to the breeze. I was out with my cat on the balcony, he selecting the tenderest blades of stray grass for a snack of roughage, and I snapping a few pictures. And the millet, which didn't suffer at all from the drought while I was away and in fact seems taller and greener and thicker than ever where it sprouted next to the patio tomato, rustled in the breeze. I wouldn't have noticed, because the traffic was loud and everything else that could rustle was rustling, too, mainly the giant sweet gum tree whose branches extend to within a few feet of my balcony. But the millet made a sound unlike anything else around. Coarse rustling, like corn stalks or dried marsh grass. It's a sound that doesn't belong up here, but here it is, evoking open spaces, broad skies, a beautiful loneliness.