Friday, May 26, 2006
An august copper beech tree presides behind my office. It dangles furry red nuttish things at the tips of its branches. I swiped one because it looked soft in the humid air.
In case my readership of six is worried that I'm beside myself with a broken heart, really it's not so. I get it, you know, that waiting for what is right--truly right--is the deal. The problem is that in the meantime I get impatient and lonely.
Once Jenny said that when she brushes her teeth it depresses her because she imagines herself brushing her teeth every morning and night for the rest of her life. I tend to think of loneliness the same way, although it's not as funny. But I never experience loneliness in the moment the way I experience it when I imagine it stretching on dully for the rest of my life.
But my cooper beech is an icon of that which stretches on, growing deeper and spreading out, and she is neither lonely nor dull. And she's making furry red things to wear.