Wednesday, March 06, 2013

Dreary

A gray and dreary day: the rain becomes visible and disappears again, but the dripping from the twigs goes on regardless: every end and nub is lit with a dull silvery spark, that winks, falls, and reappears. Somewhere out east, there, beyond the clouds, is the sun, I suppose, or even this light would fail. But it's difficult to believe. In the parking lot of Fred Meyer an unprepossessing young man was shouting at his girlfriend: “it's just fucking DARK and GRAY and it goes ON and ON and ON!” Like she could do something about it.

It doesn't go on and on, of course: in fact we had quite a nice sunny warm-ish day just a couple days ago, which got his hopes up. That's probably the problem.

The uncanny blue of spruce needles, the pale green of the spreading lichen on the steep bit of sidewalk over yonder, and the vague greeny-black of the doug firs standing against the east: all muted, all fading. I'm finishing my second breakfast, unless it's my early lunch: hamburger, sweet potato, romaine salad, all of them plain but for a bit of salt, all of them startlingly vivid and rewarding on this dull, dull day. I am perhaps too fond of ordinary food ever to become a foodie. I like this stuff: I don't feel any inclination to jazz it up.

But I remain moody and belligerent, like that young man: I want to pick a quarrel and have it out with someone. My disappointment is close to the bone, and cold, cold: surely it must be somebody else's fault?

I close my eyes and question my body. The faint silver wavering shring of my tinnitus: the hunch of my shoulders, an uneasiness in my knees. Take a couple breaths, drop the shoulders, move my feet out from under my chair. The anxiety that's left is in my back, in the neighborhood of the kidneys. I arch my back, toss my head, grimace. Sometimes you move just warn off the buzzards. Keep your distance, buckos! This one's still warm and liable to kick.

8 comments:

Kathleen said...

I've been feeling dreary, too, and remarkably similar to you, down to the bones and the back. Sigh...

But spring will come, spring will come.

Dale said...

Thanks Kathleen! xoxo

Zhoen said...

Wanna fight about it, dude?

Rouchswalwe said...

Keeping the buzzards at bay isn't easy on a dreary day. I resort to leopard print shirts whenever possible. Today I "doubled up on leopard," as my friend noted. Yes, I had the audacity to wear a fuzzy leopard ski vest over a leopard print shirt. It helped me cheer up a gargoyle. So it's all good tonight.

Phil Plasma said...

It had been gray here for a number of days, but today it was clear.

I'm not moody or belligerent; just absurd.

Murr Brewster said...

Ahhh! I liked this so much.

mm said...

It's the greyness that does it, isn't it?

Bella said...

I do so enjoy finding you in my reader! I, too, shall kick the buzzards away for now anyway...