Tiny Little Gift To Me

“We haven’t seen a storm like this since January,” the weather guy stated with a sincerity that was so intense it felt like it was made of stainless steel.

He said it as if we were perusing the annals of weather history to pull up the last storm of this sort of impact, this sort of destruction, and it was back in the winter of ’39 when the men feared for their very lives, when an entire rutabaga crop was lost to the communists... But it was 9 months ago. And the storm he was so excited about (he had a look in his eyes that spoke of a desire to mount said storm and hump it until one of them was bleeding from somewhere) amounted to a little rain and a little strong wind. All and all, it’s pretty typical weather for the area.

You wouldn’t guess it from the wide-eyed and glassy glare the man was projecting out there. You could practically smell the over the counter stimulants sweating out of his pores, see the coke dust in the wrinkles made by his gleeful twitching. That wind, that excitable wind, will come back momentarily. Wait.

I got home last night and stretched out on the couch. The plan was to nap away some cold time, watch Zodiac again. I was sort floating in a sick nap sort of head space, confusing early 70’s San Francisco portrayed in the movie with modern day San Francisco, then mixing both of them up with modern day Seattle. I was trying to force Belltown bars into Inner Richmond neighborhoods, North Beach restaurants into buildings near Pike Place Market. The brain rebelled at first, but then quickly lay down and just took it.

Something out the window caught my eye. At first I thought there were birds going apeshit out there. The gale force winds had come back (told ya) and had stripped some fall leaves prematurely. These yellow fragments, robbed of their chance for the fiery reds and oranges of fall, were made beautiful nonetheless by an impromptu flying lesson.

The narrow stretch of Denny Avenue that runs by our apartment was turned into a wind tunnel as the wind was funneled between brick apartment buildings and garish condos. Yellow leaves bounded from the ground and did effortless spins and twists two and three floors up. It made me smile to see it, feeling sick as I was. It was like a powerful troupe making due with the small quarters and performing to ends of their talents, it was a small but gratifying dance recital courtesy of nature.

I later went to sleep a little early and avoided the hell out of the weatherman.


Rocktober song of the day: “Napiers” by The Wrens