Friday, 13 November 2009

I am woken by a ringing telephone, and at the end is my mother. Who tells me to stay away from trees, and something about a weather warning closing bridges on the South coast. And as I try to listen, I find what looks like the remains of a leaf under my pillow, and partly in my hair, and dryly swallow.

The wind is tormenting the sash windows, racking them in their rotting wooden frames. And as I stare across the blackened room, what used to be a palace is nothing more than a collection of material objects. Most of which I can no longer find a use for.

And in my mouth, the taste of nothingness. And the light on a small digital watch flicks on, and several minutes pass before the LCD scrolls around to 1851 and the Compact Disc alarm starts, and Remembering Sunday Plays from the speakers. And I think there really are very few trees here.

And from the window, in the kitchen, the Christmas lights in the street warp with the rain. Like dying candles. And I think of home, and Christmas. And although it's never an eventful time, I am looking forward to it, more now, than I ever have before. And the coast, and mould wine, and candle light dinners, and beaches on new years, and old friends, and college, and Berry Estates.


Tim in the City of Angles said...

I'm always at my worst after a nap, especially if it's interrupted. I always need a good 30 minutes to get my head back together.

Your comment about "a collection of material objects" hit's home. As I've prepared to return to the US, the amount of stuff I've thrown or given away is astounding, but I feel all the better for it.

Your description of Christmas is spot on for a perfect holiday season. I'll be thinking about you.

SpiritMountainGuy said...

You weather sounds dull and depressing, much like ours here which means rain, rain and more rain with a sometimes feeble attempt by the sun to poke through the cloud cover during the day. The sun, when it does get through, is low on the horizon (we're above the 49th parallel) burning into the back of the eye sockets, an "evil yellow ball" as a former fellow worker used to call it! Such is life here during the autumn through until early spring when the rains finally slow and then stop. And the higher elevations? Well, there's snow and lots of it!

Have a great Christmas, which by the way, is just over a month away! - V.

Ben said...

I was around Park St / Clifton on Friday evening. Very stormy indeed. Amusing to see people struggling to control umbrellas in the wind when most of the time it was barely raining.

Still trying to place you - Devon? Dorset? Hampshire?

W said...

isnt it mulled wine? or am i missing a play on words here?