Tuesday, November 14, 2006


The spire of Harrow school rises out of the mist, elegant and understated. It's little more than a silhouette; the charcoal shingles blend seamlessly with the lighter grey sky. Below the monotonous horizon lie jewels. A blindingly green field, shimmering with the raindrops that bow the blades of grass. A line of trees, now in glorious autumn color. It's almost a line of fire, yellows turning into oranges and flaming reds. Sparks have fallen and reached the ground; now they lie there, waiting for their moment of glory. If the wind blows in just the right way, I think the earth will explode into flame, burst back into life, erupt with the colors of creation.


There's a man dressed in a clown suit, absurd in his makeup and loudly patterned clothes. He must be cold there by the door; it's November and grey and rainy. But still, he's smiling and laughing and talking to passersby. In between chats, he blows bubbles into the store, creating an impermanent indoor layer of clouds. They make the atmosphere come alive. The people in the store love them, or at least I do. I love the store in general. What's better than uncontrolled access to 6 stories of toys? It's glorious. Between the teddy bears and Legos and dolls, I catch glimpses of myself, a younger me (Did she really exist?) who doesn't feel guilty playing. This is a feeling I've not held onto well enough. I need innocence, need the reminder that not all the world is cold and harsh and unfeeling. I hesitate to leave. When I do, I know the part of myself I found here will stay here. It's her home, no matter how much I wish it wasn't. Someday I will come back, and when I do, I will find a way to keep her, make her a part of myself.


At 10:26 AM, Blogger GrumpyTeacher1 said...

Very cool.


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