Why does the dark wind sound so different when it’s coming off of a lake? At once closer and like it’s come from miles, decades, centuries away … from the timeless place where the wind has its beginning.
Or is it just me?
Either way, after a wind-filled night, here I am, sitting at the table that’s graced this living room at the lake for, maybe, ninety years now … working at a laptop that would have been absolutely foreign, even 10 years ago. ZoeyHopBrew-Cornblog (the dog with the longest surname in Upstate New York) is here with me as her “masters” (we all know THAT’S not really true, don’t we, Zoey?) are off meeting a friend for breakfast.
Zoey and I are savoring the Sox, Phillies and Rays’ wins last night, listening to the chipmunks chattering outside, and generally just enjoying one another’s company.
I must say that I am slightly relieved to be on a dial-up connection. It slows everything down considerably … which is exactly what I need to do.
Ahhhhhhhh … to write, to read, to listen and look … ’tis a lovely thing. Zoey and I are going to commune now.