Monday, July 16, 2012
She liked, she said, to sit all day.
And from what I could tell, she did.
I liked how comfortable she was alone. How unafraid of time just passing. How dutiful she was in her self-commissioned role of watching the sky and sea change. I wondered if I could sit like that, if only for a day, and if, at the end of the day, I would better understand time, know more than most about what it is to measure out the hours.
I think of her now, when all I really want is to sit and read and (every now and then) look up and study a bird or listen to the chorus of the angry hot cicadas.