What to say of the last 5 days? So much snow which gave me a child-like thrill to crunch underfoot. Cold that cut right through the layers of sadness and winds that blew the shards away. And the sustenance…of body and mind. I supped on it like a starveling.
There was more walking than I’ve done for pleasure in a long time. The constant movement of the packing having been the only activity I’ve had for such a long time. Strolling through a town small enough to know you but large enough to remain anonymous to most. And the utterly comedic moment of the deer on the moonlit lawn, and the one that simply had to drop a deuce right then and our pausing in kindness…then the waiting…and the waiting…for a creature that really ought to have had enough fiber. But perhaps it was a private deer joke to keep the humans waiting that they laughed at while resting under the tree at the park later.
There is a college that hugs the foot of a mountain, so lovely in the evening snowfall…
…J turns on small streets to slip into the parking space……a recitation of the entire Kipling “Gunga Din” to my heart’s joy…and a hill climb in weather that no sane people ought to have challenged. The wind in the valley gusted to a decent 15mph but up there it was sufficient to move a person several inches. He leapt into the air and landed quite a distance from his starting point. Perhaps 50mph? At one point while fishing in my pocket for a Kleenex my fancy handkerchief was stolen by the winds – I laughed and watched it flutter away, quite prepared to let it become the property of that place and those winds. Then, as if Fortuna herself looked kindly on me, it snagged on the low grasses. My host, reckless with his life on that icy slope, strode off to fetch it for me. My hero!
I am sitting here, cheek resting in my hand, looking out the window but seeing nothing local…mind still in that chilly clime, still selecting coffee, and looking out that window at the lovely hill in the distance.
I am trying to be very diplomatic in the things I say and the revelations made. A part of me would stand tall – this is my place and I can say what I like – but another part wants it to remain quite private…as if to speak too much of it would remove the glamour over it – the spell cast on the time so that hours moved differently. And there is a kind of deference to my host – his own preference for privacy matching mine. But I will say that I noted the happy crinkle in the eyes of his good friend when we walked in the shop before the haggling took place. Yes, it was time for a change and I think it was a good one. I understand an inquiry was made later as to his shopping companion.
All too soon it was time to return to this place of damp air and green shades peeking through. We hit every red light as if the town itself was delaying the inevitable. And, it being a small airport, he left the car at the curb, taking my bag for me to the counter as I checked in. It was a very memorable farewell for anyone who cared to look. It meant that, rather than run my mind in grooves of sad goodbye, it moved like a skater on ice, a smile frozen on lips, winds rushing by even though still in a seat in a tube on a tarmac.
Ah, but it was nice to have water soft enough to let my hair be something other than a wild mane when I was showered last night. And there is coffee. Lashings of it.
I wait in hope that my suitcase will show up before noon so that I can start the laundry task. Yes, the connection time was so tight and the ground delay just long enough that I had to jog through DEN from gate 47 to 20 while knowing the time to depart was already ticking by. But I made it – one of the last few – and sank in the seat with the sure knowledge that the bag would not come with me.
(Oh! Look who just arrived…)
I cared for nothing but the gazing out the window to a vista not before me but behind me and remembering a farewell to match the hello.