Notes:
- Photo: afar.com – Kenya’s Diani Beach (Thank you Christie for sharing)
- Background on Caleb/Wednesday/Hump Day Posts and Geico’s original commercial: Let’s Hit it Again
Tag: Quotes
Monday Morning
When I began this gathering of essays, which, yes, comes from the French essai, meaning to try, or to attempt, I planned on writing one of these things — these attempts — every day for a year. When I decided this I was walking back to my lodging in a castle (delight) from two very strong espressos at a café in Umbertide (delight), having just accidentally pilfered a handful of loquats from what I thought was a public tree (but upon just a touch more scrutiny was obviously not — delight!), and sucking on the ripe little fruit, turning the smooth gems of their seeds around in my mouth as wild fennel fronds wisped in the breeze on the roadside, a field of sunflowers stretched to the horizon, casting their seedy grins to the sun above, the honeybees in the linden trees thick enough for me not only to hear but to feel in my body, the sun like a guiding hand on my back, saying everything is possible. Everything.
~ Ross Gay, The Book of Delights
Notes: Loquat Photo. Quote via Brain Pickings
Sunday Morning
You live a decent length you get an appreciation for the individuality of creation. You understand there’s no such thing as the common man, and certainly not woman. But even then, in those first moments beside him on the windowsill, I think I knew there was something arresting about him. Everybody carries a world. But certain people change the air about them. That’s the best I can say. It can’t be explained, only felt. He was easy in himself. Maybe that was the first thing. He didn’t feel the need to fill the quiet and had the confidence of the storyteller when the story is still unpacked, its snaps not yet released. His hair had not been barbered in some time, his beard rose into his cheeks and descended inside the collar of his shirt, around the top-button of which was grey with finger-grease. The flesh of his face had the same travelled quality as his clothes and belongings, as if cured by hot suns and cold winds. He was deep-wrinkled, like a chamois. His life was written all over him. His eyes I’ve mentioned. I can see them still. It seems to me the true and individual nature of a human being’s eyes defy description, or at least my capabilities. They’re not like anything else, or anyone else’s, and may be the most perfect proof of the existence of a Creator. Maybe that old thing about eyes and the soul is true, I can’t say, but I did wonder the first time I saw him what gave a person eyes like that.
~ Niall Williams, “This Is Happiness” (Bloomsbury Publishing; December 3, 2019)
Notes: Photograph: Amanda Dalbjörn with eyes
Riding Metro North. No Wings.
Tuesday.
Low 30’s F.
Walking to catch the 6:16 a.m. train to Manhattan, irritated that I have a late jump, and finding a seat is now a 50% probability. $15.25 for a ticket, and I have to worry about getting a seat.
I’m 1000 ft away from the stairs to the platform, and the cyclops eye beams through the morning fog illuminating the track. This is followed by a short horn blast signaling its arrival at the station.
It’s 3 minutes early.
I run.
I catch the train.
NO SEAT.
I stand for 55 minutes.
I’ve started a new book by Niall Williams titled “This is Happiness.” And this ain’t bloody Happiness. Continue reading “Riding Metro North. No Wings.”
Guess.What.Day.It.Is?
Notes:
- Photo: Oziel Gómez (@ozgomz) Instagram: “Exploring the Great Pyramid of Khufu, the oldest and largest of the three pyramids in Giza and the oldest of the Seven Wonders of the Ancient World.” (Thank you Sawsan for sharing)
- Background on Caleb/Wednesday/Hump Day Posts and Geico’s original commercial: Let’s Hit it Again