Even the night has light

Written last night:

Today I verified my address to the woman arranging shipment of a TV stand (Yay! But now I have to learn how to turn on the TV),  and when I said twelfth floor, she said, “Wow! That’s so high!” It seemed a kind of mystery to her, living above the street. I understand. When I moved from Tallahassee I wondered how I’d survive without the ground-level chirping of birds to wake me and the hummingbirds in the red vines, and the monarchs gliding around the butterfly bush. What creature will fly up to delight me, I wondered. Crows? Buzzards? Bats?

That creature, I’ve discovered, is light itself. The view from my balcony is great, looking right and looking left, but I’ve gotten even more enchanted by the way the whole space outside my windows carries colors in the air. Pinks, blues, golds — even the black night that I see now. All at once I understand people who walk on tightropes between tall buildings, and how da Vinci and then the Wright brothers got the notion people might fly. The lure of light is indescribable, and the space outside my windows is a simple, unexpected delight.. The light makes me never want to lower my shades again.

(Speaking of shades, I haven’t ordered any yet. It’s on the to-do list!)

I showed up again today at the Thursday farmers market that’s only a block away. I bought the last honeydew-cantaloupe melon, just as a well-dressed woman next to me decided she also wanted one. “I’ll be back earlier next week!” she laughed. “I’ve got to beat you to it!” It was a congenial break in the day — easy to share a conversation and a laugh. I also visited, but haven't yet bought anything, from the wine booth. “These are table wines,” said the vintner, lovingly pouring little samples from a jug — literally a jug — of white wine. “It contains almost three bottles,” she said. 

I should have bought it! Could have used it this afternoon, to lighten the tedium of more phone calls, mistakes, and a visit from Best Buy installers, who told me I need a plumber before I can have water and ice from the refrigerator. Seems the connection is too old, not up to code. Well, at least I know. 

And dinner, leisurely, with Stephanie and Patrick at the crepe place near their home. Loved being with them.

Heard from Tallahassee friends. Electricity is out all around my old home city now, and they’re concerned about falling limbs and flooding. They're hunkering down to high wind, rising water, and a dark night. 

Love,
k

Farmers market