Skip to main content

Mesmer's Weather



Slavish devotion to laptop today, obsessed by learning to format an ebook. Rather startled to find there are people talking to me. Apologies, family. And knees: I have ice knee caps. Tellingly, I have remembered to feed the dog. Feed, and walk. This morning, before my laptop pinged on and the rest of the known universe vanished, all I wanted to think of was taking a holiday; flicking lazy feet over warm sand. Me and Dog sent up a neat spray of last night's rain, there were still strawberries to be found, so I could not think why I needed; it felt like I needed; to skip over a tropical beach. My hand on the door handle as the heavy rain falls. The smell of refreshed earth follows me in. Up to the bedroom to find a towel, and stop, and find that I am caught in the rain, in the lush-heavy sound of it.


Comments

The Cranky said…
How I have missed these words!
Jeremy Bates said…
I'm with you on the yearning for the beach. I have been wanting to go for the past 2 weeks. The heck of it is, it's a 4-hour bus ride (I don't own a car here in Manila where I am writing). There's just something about the smell and the sounds that refresh. Hope you make it as well as me.
Lisa Southard said…
I made it Jeremy- I'm a mere half hour by car although one is subject to British weather. 4 hours by bus... no envy there. I hope you find a beach loving friend with an air conditioned car :-)
Jacqueline- Thank you! :-)

Popular posts from this blog

Contact Pants Conundrum

There is weather today, I do note it: take a few moments to reckon the size of a cloud (big) and the frequency of rain (sporadic.) Centre of my interest though is a stack of magazines. Not the fashion kind. This is martial arts research. I'm not even sure what it is I'm looking for, but intuition calls loud. A range of old adverts skew some amusement. Contact pants, for example. Pants are not trousers where I come from. They are underwear. Professional contact pants: improved smirk value. But why would a person be likely to purchase a grappling hook and a lock pick set? For specialists and hobbyists only, the blurb assures. Guidance on the pheromone spray that attracts women against their better judgement? I doubt it works any more proficiently than the mysterious potion that defines your muscles while you sleep. But, then: I wonder is some sprayed on this paper? What was my intuition thinking, making this ghastly shout… Tea break time. There's a lot of words...

Back From The Future Blog Party

Another joint blog adventure- if you want to see who else said what the list of participants is here . The premise is this: 'You're up before dawn on a Saturday when the doorbell rings. You haven't brewed your coffee so you wonder if you imagined the sound. Plonking the half-filled carafe in the sink, you go to the front door and cautiously swing it open. No one there. As you cast your eyes to the ground, you see a parcel addressed to you ... from you. You scoop it up and haul it inside, sensing something legitimate despite the extreme oddness of the situation. Carefully, you pry it open. Inside is a shoebox -- sent from ten years in the future -- and it's filled with items you have sent yourself. What's in it?' Here's how I imagined it: Before dawn? Shadows outside, first forming. Sleep has gone, I don't know where. Coffee I can find. All the way from Machu Pichu, this fair-traded pack. Scissors are in the drawer, which ...

In Spring Our Thoughts Turn To Loss

I'm not sure this poem is quite right, but out it goes. I keep writing and forgetting to post any of it- today I remember a very beautiful ghost, a YOLO blend of care free and care full. She would be- she is- rolling her eyes, pretending not to love the attention. Fare thee well dear one, wherever you wander you are settled in our hearts xxx