11.05.2003

So it's another beautiful day out there, probably around 40 degrees and with that slightly damp after-the-rain feel to the air...completely out of place, of course, being here a week into November. Last year the ground was frozen and well on its way to being white.

I of course am stuck inside, in the typical pattern that these things tend to follow, and with sunset at quarter of five these days I rather doubt I'll be able to enjoy this unseasonal warmth before daylight ends. Instead I am limited to staring longingly out my window and watching the leaves drop one by one from the sugar maples that line the driveway like golden torches.

Despite the warmth, the height of our autumn color has passed and the woods are taking on the gray and depressing cast that November always brings. Even the leaves that remain have lost their brilliancy, and everywhere bare trunks and branches are silhouetted against a leaden sky. There is no taste of snow in the air; no sense of expectation, simply a dead sort of calm broken only by the raucous croaks of the ravens.

It's times like these, when I look out at life through the window of my own space and see nothing but gray, that it's almost more tempting to stay inside, curled up with a hypothetical good book and mug of hot chocolate. Without marshmallows. Whipped cream though. And cinnamon and nutmeg on top. Mocha Malabar.

It's pointless though. The gray life, I mean. Even the bite of winter in the air signifies that something is about to happen; this slow day-to-day grind, lacking anything of moment, filled with pettiness and downright ridiculousness, is as silent and unappealing as the grave. There is no creativity, no humor, no depth. People skate over their lives on the uppermost layer and never delve beneath to find the treasures of intelligence, dignity, and grace that could so easily be implemented. Instead they giggle and argue over the most ridiculous of things. It grates. I find it aurally and visually aggravating. Better to stay inside in my comfortable little study, and let that facet of the world pass me by.

On a happier note, I just received a thank-you note from my graduate student for helping him with his MBA paper. Sweet of him.

0 Comments:

Post a Comment

<< Home