A woman in navy gators, old-style webbed snowshoes, laced with sinew, bulky and awkward, tucked up under her armpit, slinging waggling ski poles, wrapped in a red knit ski cap with earflaps. I’m reminded that Natalie has a wool cap like that, a Sherpa cap that looks like someone knitted (no, crocheted?) it for her, especially for her. And now I’m remembering a photograph I took of her with dark shades and that Sherpa cap, gloves, or tan mittens. She’s staring right at me, right into the camera. We are walking the dirt road to the white cross behind Mabel Dodge, the one painted by O’Keeffe.
The sun is pale orange, sinking in a crisp winter sky. Wind whistles, clouds surf along a plume of chimney smoke, sky purples, alternating stripes of gray and red, tapered yellowish tails that blind me when I look into the sun to remember how to describe the light. Light is one of the hardest things to write about. Hard to detail. Like trying to capture the feeling of sucking air through a candy-cane striped straw. The kind in the Wendy’s Frosty I had Friday night. It was late, the storm was coming, Liz stayed two hours later at work. Overtime and a feeling of job well done.
Clingy, tawny oak leaves, sucked into winter’s vortex, hanging on by a single, dead stem. Bobbing ash branches over the Mystic River deck. That’s the name of the color of our deck: Behr Mystic River. And the house will be Pot of Cream next year and the trim will be Cloudberry. The color scheme, does it tell you anything about us? Or describe true color?
What’s in front of me, a long, lonely winter. Not the kind of lonely I am used to. Not the long-suffering alone kind of lonely. But the kind of lonely where I have to make decisions that impact me for a long time to come. There are decisions. And then there are consequences of decisions. Will ever the twain meet? I want to know.
Aluminum blue streaks, striated against brown banana orange. Night falls from the West. There is dusting of powder on the north side of the ash. The tree is 3 pronged and I see the sun through the slingshot V of branch 1 and branch 2. Thing 1 and Thing 2 with their shiny red and white hats. The snowshoe woman looked like Thing 3, though I couldn’t see her face. She walked briskly, head down against the wind. It picks up as the clouds disperse, making way for the frigid air of a clear night.
A midsummer night’s dream is only a distant memory. Orange day lilies and sweet bush clover and pansies and black-eyed susans. I took a lemon bristled broom and a fire handled, snow shovel and took care of the deep, mottled driveway, the newly painted deck, the lean and trim gutters that Gene completed on the eve of Saturday’s storm. He was dressed in Carhart brown and sucked on a Marlboro while he deftly tacked the gutter pipe to the old 50’s Masonite siding. “It’s in good shape,” he said. “Usually, this stuff cracks.”
He looked kind of James Deanish (there I go again) with that cigarette dangling from his winter lips, sideburn edges peeking under a red skull cap, body wrapped in the bulk of winter construction in Minnesota. He was the nicest man and I wanted to tell him how much I appreciated contracting with professionals who do what they say they will do and don’t quit until the job is done.
An elongated scar on the south branch of the closest naked oak. It’s about 50 feet from the window I’m staring out as I write. There were two cardinals (aren’t they bulked up finches?) on the three feeders on Friday, one male, one female. The female was an understated caramel, with her tiniest breast feathers ruffling in juts of wind. I wondered if she was cold.
Then the male flitted by in papal crimson and true black. The female had a little blip of red on her crest. I watched them dance back and forth on the oily, black-seeded feeder. The neighbor plugged in his outdoor Christmas tree, twinkling white, while his kids pulled out over thin air, dangling from a wooden seated rope swing hanging from the same scarred oak.
Plus 6 with the windchill. The night’s sunset is reflected in the shiny screen of Liz’s laptop. She oils her hands with a lavender salve I bought at the Albuquerque Growers Market last summer. I feel glad to be alive.
-posted on red Ravine, Sunday, December 2nd, 2007
-related to Topic Post, WRITING TOPIC – ATTENTION TO DETAIL
Chock full, QM! Chock full!
A delight to read.
LikeLike
RECALL:
navy gators
old-style webbed snowshoes
laced with sinew
bulky and awkward
waggling ski poles
a Sherpa cap that looks like someone knitted (no, crocheted?) it for her, especially for her
sinking in a crisp winter sky
***clouds surf along a plume of chimney smoke***
sky purples, alternating stripes of gray and red, tapered yellowish tails that blind me when I look into the sun
Light is one of the hardest things to write about.
Like trying to capture the feeling of sucking air through a candy-cane striped straw.
***Clingy, tawny oak leaves, sucked into winter’s vortex, hanging on by a single, dead stem.***
Pot of Cream
the trim will be Cloudberry
The color scheme, does it tell you anything about us? Or describe true color?
But the kind of lonely where I have to make decisions that impact me for a long time to come.
Aluminum blue streaks, striated against brown banana orange.
Night falls from the West.
the slingshot V of branch 1 and branch 2
Thing 1 and Thing 2
The snowshoe woman looked like Thing 3
a lemon bristled broom
***dressed in Carhart brown and sucked on a Marlboro while he deftly tacked the gutter pipe to the old 50’s Masonite siding***
He looked kind of James Deanish (there I go again) with that cigarette dangling from his winter lips, sideburn edges peeking under a red skull cap, body wrapped in the bulk of winter construction in Minnesota.
cardinals (aren’t they bulked up finches?)
papal crimson and true black
Plus 6 with the windchill.
I feel glad to be alive.
LikeLike
Vortex is such a great word…
I’m a visual person QM…what color is Mystic River? I working the color scheme in my head…blue grey or blue green…
and cloudberry?
H
LikeLike
H, it’s kind of blue grey with light periwinkle thrown in. It’s brighter than we anticipated. But we’ve both come to love it. It’s real clean and cheery. The cloudberry we’ll use for the trim is a darker blue grey with a dash of purple in it. The house will be a warmer white. At least that’s where we stand now. All this could change by next summer when we paint!
yb, thanks for the Recall. It was a good Topic. I found myself really paying attention to the little things. And it was a good reminder!
LikeLike
Sounds very cool. I like it in my head. Nice choices.
I have the house painted about every 4 years and it’s definitely due…always like to surprise the neighbors…with something unusual… 😉
LikeLike
I had a feeling that was the color, more or less. But I kept remembering that movie, Mystic River, with Sean Penn and Tim Robbins. What a sad, depressing movie. So heavy.
LikeLike
yb, Mystic River was a very depressing movie. Was that the name of the town, I can’t remember now. Most people don’t paint their decks anymore. But this little place has a cottage like feel and looks good that way.
H, it’s nice that you paint your house every 4 years. Fresh start. What color is it now? We had thought of painting the house a color rather than warm white. But then when the deck turned out so bright, we reconsidered. We’ll see what we end up with.
LikeLike
QM, Our little house faces full sun and gets the ocean air so it takes a beating. That’s why I have to have it painted it so often.(And I get bored) Most people down here just put siding on and are done with it. I just can’t stomach the thought of the same color forever! When we first moved in, I picked a darker greyish teal color with accents in a 50% paler version of it combined with mauve and pale soft white. It probably sounds strange but even the painters…who looked at me screwy at first…loved it.
I’ve since learned to get used to going lighter as it fades rather quickly. Right now I have 3 shades of swiss coffee with the creamer as the accent (a creamy white). It’s a taupe, warm brown-grey…dark, medium and light. The door is a darker blue-grey color. I also combine each accent color with matching canopy shades in sharp angular shapes over the windows (for a modern cottage look). But, I always have the painters paint the brightest color chosen… first…I love to toy with the neighbors 😉
I seem to gravitated toward jewel tone colors as my preference. I’ve never been much of a pastel sort. When the poor painters were painting my living room a very deep golden yellow, every one who was working on my house as it was being remodeled…well they were all worried… I’m proud to say it’s the most loved and celebrated room in the house…and I never lost faith that it would be.
It’s funny, but because some guy bought the little house next to mine, tore it down and built a 5500 square foot home…my house just disappeared. (It’s 1480 sq ft). It was impossible for me to get any Halloween shots without it in the background.
I told my husband I was going to have someone come and frame in the whole top portion of the roof to create a great big square on top and then cement the whole outside so it looks like a giant rectangle sticking up (with windows)…and then paint it Peacock blue…my favorite color. Heck, I might even paint one of those cool Sunami type waves on the side, you know, the ones depicted in Chinese art with the white caps. My husband would just shrug his shoulders and say to the neighbors…”well”.
LikeLike
H, thanks for coming back and filling me in on your beautiful color schemes! Creative!
The deep golden yellow that brings so much joy, isn’t that the 3rd chakra, taking action, power. I really enjoy yellow rooms. My mom painted our kitchen a warm yellow when I was growing up. It was also the center of activity and celebration.
You live next to a McMansion? I love the idea of a giant Peacock blue wave painting. I mean do they really need 5500 square feet? I saw a show recently on an architect who has gone back to designing traditional smaller homes that are modern and beautiful. He makes the most of every square inch. I tend to like smaller homes. They feel more cozy and I don’t get as lost. 8)
LikeLike
McMansion! I love it QM! If you don’t mind, I will (in your honor) rename it. I gravitate from “the Monolith” to “Noah’s Ark” but your’s is so much better!
🙂 H
LikeLike