the unpredictable sky

Posted by Erin on 2nd March 2011 in Erin's Thoughts

Sun then hail then whipping winds then sun again. A sky that throws itself around without embarrassment or concern for the confusion or mess – there is no one to answer to. It thrills me to be so close to thrashingly unrestrained expressiveness. I quiver with glee because my errands today will be more than just activities – the weather makes me feel more vivid, the way increasing the contrast does to the object in a photo.

Town is downhill. As I roll off to the side of the road and pick up speed I spray a fine mist of wet gravel up my arms, along my thighs and inside the teal bag that hangs on the back of my chair. I wear battered gloves to protect my hands from the gritty friction but my clothes are at the mercy of the muck. The feeling of the speed swooping into my guts and moving them around makes me cackle out loud. I grin like a fool on these downhill trips feeling taken over by momentum – a feeling a lot like loosing your mind in the touch and scent of someone. The tiny gravel bumps vibrate my skin and i’m always itchy from it by the time I get to the bottom. Itchy and exhilarated. The exhilaration takes over my face, people think I’m smiling at them, that it’s just happiness, or that i’m simply having fun – and it’s partly true. The thrill is more intimate than just enjoyment and by the bottom of that hill what i’m really feeling is ravished.

Today is the kind of day where people I see all the time, and people I have never seen before are telling me their finest secrets and tales. The one’s they keep close to their skin for warmth and protection. The stories from their lives that are too easily misunderstood or dropped by those they might hand them to if they weren’t so careful with them. I think there is something fierce around me that makes us all brave. Them to speak and me to sit very still and very open and hear. Because there is something in the fierce that means you can take on the destructive or dangerous things of life and not bow over in despair. Maybe somehow saying them into the fierceness clears some of the debris they’ve accumulated away and makes carrying them around a little lighter. I’d like to think it’s something like that.

Being intense is not always the most likeable, approachable, swallowable thing. Too much, is too much. Stomach ache or emotional or energetic overload. But other days, some mysterious tweak of things and intensity is the exact thing that draws people in and makes us all feel safe and strong.

I buy a handful of books with covers as glossy as candy. I don’t want to just read them I want to eat them, sucking out all their flavour. And when I tell my friend who sells these morsels to me the dirty things I plan to do to them she groans in empathy. And I am unembarrassed by my pleasure.

At the grocery store the produce man helps me to reach the too-high kale and later comes to find me in the check-out line to give me a bag of mangoes that have spots on their skin. He seems a little shy about his gift, but I receive it proudly.

And still the sky is changing it’s mind. and all day I am at peace being just like that – my insides like an unpredictable sky.

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