This morning I opened the curtains, looked out my bathroom window, and saw a sky full of pink streaks punctuated by low grey clouds. It was so beautiful I stood for a few minutes just taking it all in. The pink streaks, of course, were the sun reflecting on the many contrails in the sky. Who says global warming can't be beautiful? Much lovelier to look at than Al Gore's ever-expanding face.
That got me in a good mood. Then I started to think about my dreams, or a dream, to be specific. Some people have recurrent dreams. I have one too. I've had it five or six times since I was in my 20s. What it involves is a house I live in that has rooms I never knew existed till I open a door that leads to what must be an annex. In these dreams the house changes, the rooms change, but the wonder of discovery never does. I have discovered rooms decorated in retro-1950s style, in modernist style, bedrooms, ballrooms, attics, swimming pools, roof terraces with skylights and terra cotta pots everywhere. I don't know what the dream means -- self discovery maybe? I haven't had it in a few months or maybe even a year. It doesn't come that often, but when it does I welcome it. It is comforting in the way that your favourite blanket was when you were growing up. Do any of you have recurrent dreams like that?
My lovely day has continued. The weather helps. It is one of those crisp, sunny autumn days that we don't get that often here. When I lived in suburban New York, I remember all of October and November being like this. I would pass a maple tree on my way to work that glistened in the late afternoon sunlight (I worked nights at that time). It would cheer me, at least temporarily, before I went in to the drudgery of nights on the sports copy desk working with guys I did't like and who didn't like me.
Jake is enjoying the weather too. He's charging around like a mad thing, digging up ancient balls that must have belonged to some dog that lived here in the past. I went to the gym and worked out at least as hard as some of the women half my age (though my poor bladder didn't hold up too well; ah well, wait till they've had a couple of kids and an early menopause).
I'm not often this at peace with myself and my surroundings. And anything could happen in the next 10 minutes to change it. But for now I feel serene, a word that doesn't pop out of my vocabulary very often.