Tuesday, February 19, 2013

Wintry Mix

In the space I with great optimism call my "writing aerie" there is a window in front of which I have placed my desk. (For what's on my desk see here: Earl Grey tea bag tails). 

Through this window I look out today at a February landscape that includes a pine tree and a low-slung shed, a wintry mix if ever there was one. The pine tree's branches, though not boughed down with snow nevertheless droop like the eyelids of a Basset hound, and so does the shed. Its roof tiles are tattered and covered with moss.  But this moss is absurdly violently acidic '90s-Seattle green

It's like Mountain Dew green that my sister and I used to slurp and see who could burp the alphabet. It's graphic. It's rude boy. And so freaking appealing. A punk rocker next to  the sad donkey of the pine tree, and tremendous caving introspection of the shed.

I read that looking at the color green makes us creative and happy. Something about our origins and acacia trees so I have plans for a window box in the spring when the earth is not hard as iron, but right now what keeps me it's this moss like a LephrechaunProving that it is the little things. 


  1. I look from my desk into a wall. But it has a portrait of Loretta Squirrels on it. Molly

  2. My windows face south, and there's a hotel that stops me from seeing Rock Creek Park beyond. But I look at all the lights in the rooms at night and know there are plenty of stories.