This morning was beautiful, full of breezes and the clouds were massed up over the mountain tops, enveloping the peaks and then the slopes and all over the sky were tracings of clouds and islands of clouds and streaks of clouds and a few jet trails for good measure.
The sky is so huge that to see it all but filled with clouds was breath taking, clouds piled so high up into the sky that it makes clear the fact that the sky extends upward and upward and upward, miles up into the blue and the clouds were pushing their way up, their dark blue and grey flat bottoms facing the earth, their shadows covering the green of small hills and the bunched crowns of trees.
And over all the wind played, sweeping up over the valleys and the hills and pushing the clouds along, going and coming back and smelling sweetly of rain and grass. It was so cool against my face. I stood on a bluff and looked across the valley at the roots of the mountains, the mountains that were being consumed by clouds, and underneath the clouds were the small houses, the tidy, quiet roofs, the little glints from the windows, all small and packed up against the foothills, huddled down in the roots with the trees half pulled over them.
We walked around and around the little track of that park on the bluff, with the sun coming in and out of the clouds on the eastern edge of the sky and the wind came and wicked the sweat off our faces and limbs, took our words and sent them dancing away somewhere, it was as though we could hear the echoes of our own voices brought back to us on the wind and sometimes I spoke just for the sheer joy of having my words whisked away from me.
I didn't want to go home; I wanted to go to the cabin on the lake in Maine, where the screen door squeaks such a protest when opened and then slams so definitively closed, with a bang, and one's swimsuit hangs on the line and is still damp from the day before.
"What do you think if we have chickens?" I asked Keith last night.
"Chickens!" he groaned with an intensity that took me by surprise. "Oh hon, chickens are such a pain in the ass!"
"Well, I was thinking about having fresh eggs..."
"Oh, you want hens!" he exclaimed with relief. "Hon, chickens and hens are not the same thing."
"I thought they were all chickens! Anyway, I wasn't raised on a farm, so I wouldn't know..."
Other cute things Keith has said in e-mails lately:
"Honey, stop worrying about my heart. It is healthy and full of love for you...your very heart healthy tank commander (VHHTC). (a new acronym..you love me)"
After our silly argument and I wrote the blog about the acorn hitting my head:
"Hey Kitten, I am not angry, and if that acorn tree let one go on my kitten, then let's just say we will have fire wood for the coming winter..."
"Yes I am all yours, you lucky devil, you!!!!!! I love you, you are everything to me..."
"...and hey- everything that I put into those beans was planned, you little kitten...it's not like I get a little tipsy and just start going through the fridge wondering if things will be good.....that's just preposterous!!!!!! You love me...I love you, my little honey bunny!!!!!"
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