A grey day, completely out of the blue. After a week of uncomfortably sudden spring warmth, quite inexplicably, Today plunged headlong into confused autumn. Forced everyone to walk just a little shrunken, with heads bent low, sucking in mouthfuls of frigid air, hugging themselves a little more. People enveloped in themselves, seeking warmth within, bravery without.I guess it just isn't easy doing everything backwards; I don't suppose anyone could blame poor ol' Mother Nature down here for being confused as hell. As the 'right' side of the world yanks out her winter-wear-- crunchy, red-leaved carpets, blankets of fog and foggy breath, desolate trees, and stunning mornings, people in Perth have started strolling around barefoot. Yes, somehow, belying the blatant "first-worldliness" that this country (where running into someone, heck, anyone, who couldn't afford shoes is rarer than running into a yeti) basks in, more and more blithely vacuous "yoots" (Danny DeVito. Need I say more?) are taking to walking around with naked feet. Apparently, 36 degrees is too warm for footwear.
I do wonder how Aussies would deal with a Rajasthani summer...
Last night, I stayed up for hours scavenging through the myriad bits and pieces that I'd accumulated over the past year, sorting through a mountain of memory to decide what I could discard, and what I needed to hold on to. As it turns out, the more I dove into the pile, the more I discarded, and I discovered within myself a frighteningly honed skill for detachment. A sub-zero skill of unforeseeable magnitude.
Maybe it isn't only a fondness for melancholy that makes me revel in grey days. Perhaps it's the familiarity of coldness, albeit on the outside, that I seek with greed.
Maybe it isn't only a fondness for melancholy that makes me revel in grey days. Perhaps it's the familiarity of coldness, albeit on the outside, that I seek with greed.
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