I’m a Magpie
I was walking along Walter Street today when a big gust of wind blew past, scattering leaves and papers and making a cute toddler, who was tromping sturdily along the curb and holding her father’s hand, giggle and clap with delight. It was just getting dark, and as I looked up at the porch lights of the houses, admiring the dark stained glass panes on the doors and decorating imaginary homes with dark, cozy rooms, I got such a feeling of there-ness, of Cambridge, or Somerville, of streets and houses and fall nights, and the snow and the smell of it, and oh, I just wanted to go home. Home home, twenty years ago home (though now that I think of it, not twenty years ago, because twelve was kind of awkward). Anyway, Christmas will be here soon enough, and Brian and I will be holed up in my old bedroom, and I can sit awake at night and look out over the porch roof at the bright pools the streetlights make on the snow. That’ll be nice. |
I'm a freelance writer and perpetual graduate student living in San Francisco. Special skills include dog charming, brochure writing, slapdash cooking and long-winded nattering. I also enjoy watching the sunset reflected in the tall buildings downtown.
For a while there, I taught classes on Classical literature, philosophy, and the history of religion at New College of California. I have an MA and an MFA in Writing, and started library school in the fall of 2009.
Momeester
November 13th, 2009 at 9:51 am
I’m dreaming of a white Christmas.
Mooozart
November 14th, 2009 at 6:16 pm
Ditto to that. Fall always makes me homesick.
Nora
November 14th, 2009 at 8:51 pm
Fall it is. I think I feel the ‘dying of the year’ more keenly now than I do at the winter solstice. By then I’ll be half-hibernating. Now I’m awake, and the transition feels so much more dramatic.