Three Winters
Wintering here in the flooded tropics, tapping toes to “Ya Hussein”, dining on noodles & mangosteen, we’ve just caught a glimpse of our frozen home. The contrast is delicious.
Take a look at our friend Theo Theobald on TV, dog-sledding through the Minnesota Boundary Waters. She’s an instructor, so this is her commute. One year ago, I was right there with her & the sleds myself, calling "Let's go!" to a wheel dog named Havoc. Now I’m in downtown Jakarta where the wildlife is alley cats & water rats; in Ely: moose, otter, wolf & fox. Swallows & jackfruit; eagles & jack pines. The mosquitoes we have in common.
Right this minute there's a one hundred degree difference in temperature between this winter home & that one.
Meanwhile, part my head is socked in Sydney Cove, Australia, where it’s almost July 1790 & a third kind of winter altogether.
Outside, the evening adhan is soaring. Inside, Evan plays Part’s Berliner Mass. In a dreaming dimension, two characters of mine are dancing to fiddles & an Irish drum while a third leaps headlong off a cliff. I hardly know where I am sometimes.
Take a look at our friend Theo Theobald on TV, dog-sledding through the Minnesota Boundary Waters. She’s an instructor, so this is her commute. One year ago, I was right there with her & the sleds myself, calling "Let's go!" to a wheel dog named Havoc. Now I’m in downtown Jakarta where the wildlife is alley cats & water rats; in Ely: moose, otter, wolf & fox. Swallows & jackfruit; eagles & jack pines. The mosquitoes we have in common.
Right this minute there's a one hundred degree difference in temperature between this winter home & that one.
Meanwhile, part my head is socked in Sydney Cove, Australia, where it’s almost July 1790 & a third kind of winter altogether.
Outside, the evening adhan is soaring. Inside, Evan plays Part’s Berliner Mass. In a dreaming dimension, two characters of mine are dancing to fiddles & an Irish drum while a third leaps headlong off a cliff. I hardly know where I am sometimes.
posted by Anne E. Campisi at 9:41 PM
2 Comments:
"I hardly know where I am sometimes":
If I'm parsing your oh so tantalizing e-mail correctly, I'd say you're on cloud nine right about now, are you not? Or in a thirtieth-story bubble floating among the clouds . . .
: )
It's not fair to those of us who are living through the MN winter to rub it in our faces that some of those who are near and dear to us are currently enjoying equatorial heat (or antipodean summer, though that's someone else's cross to bear).
And if you're gonna blog as regularly as you are, can you turn on RSS feeds? :)
Miss you guys. Come home soon, okay?
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