The interstitials

Nature is so exaggerated this spring, we’ve got hummingbirds like gnats. I got desperate enough for human contact I went back to my dentist to have my teeth cleaned, didn’t mind strangers putting their hands in my mouth. I came home with a bounce in my stride, a new toothbrush, and a follow-up appointment in December.

The sun set after 9 and it was hard not getting up early. I feasted on work, really dug in. Filled myself with pretzels the way a taxidermist might pack a rabbit. Pink Moon came on, the Nick Drake song. And I went back to England to a small town outside of Bath, my early morning walks around the village there mid-winter, past the church, the school, the corner shops…little details for the moment meant for that time and no other. We had our pasts to flip through at least, the interstitials between time and place.

Sitting outside as the storm gathers, on the outer edge of it: thinking that all things have their edges good or bad, where they begin.

The storm starts and I’m out in the middle of it hoping to see lightning, it’s so rare. The wildlife sounds tentative, falls into a hush. The colors to the west are a deep pink blanketed by gray. The dog is panting. The PowerPoint deck I did today was like that, battleship gray. The cat and dog groom themselves. I put in my clean night guard and say goodnight. Shapes defined by their edges. The sound of the mourning dove like someone trying to learn a new instrument. Maybe that’s why they’re called mourning doves, because that’s the sound of mourning: forced into learning an instrument you don’t want to play. A sound that’s grating and unchanging and doesn’t amount to much.

The stillness here every morning and night. I sit outside watching the rain with the scents of summer, the edge of another season of futures and pasts. A whole lifetime of that.



Categories: microblogging, prose, travel, writing

Tags: , , , , , ,

8 replies

  1. I too had my teeth cleaned 2 weeks ago … my dentist reopened as soon as “allowed” … tells me dentists and staff have ALWAYS been sterile-focused because of what they continually come into contact with … no place safer from COVID than dentist’s chair. Since I haven’t come down with anything, I’ll accept that declaration.

    I’m a bit envious of your quiet evenings/mornings – sounds downright serene.

    Liked by 1 person

    • I swallowed the hydrogen peroxide solution by mistake! Here’s to clean insides. Yes, the quiet is divine. A real stillness, opportunity to be more aware if we can, will see…

      Liked by 1 person

  2. Your descriptions were so vivid that I thought for a second when you said, “the dog is panting” you really said, “the dog is painting.” Fits, somehow.

    Liked by 1 person

  3. Mourning doves = novice mourning sounds. That’s a keeper.

    Liked by 1 person

  4. Another great little piece of prose Bill. Going to the dentist must be a thing right now. I just went a couple days ago. I think it just felt good doing something so normal again, you know?

    Liked by 1 person

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