The Hermit Poet

December 18, 2008

Journey South, Through Rain

Filed under: Uncategorized — admin @ 1:45 pm

Last night I decided to brave the rain and cold (or what approximates cold in southern California) and head down to the Ugly Mug reading in Orange.  The freeways were slow at first, the rain steady, though not heavy, and the drive eventually became more pleasant once the cars began to thin out.

I like driving in the rain.  I guess deep down, I’m still in love with weather, especially cool rainy days.  I’m from BC, born in Vancouver, and rain must run through my veins.  Even all those years in Saskatchewan can’t quite erase that, though thanks to the time spent there, now I’m equally fond of cold.

So nights like last night are perfect for me.  Makes me want to write, or perhaps to wander through streets, looking at the world somewhat washed clean.  Lines on buildings stand out better.  The normally distant and dusted colors of the trees and flowers burn brighter and more vibrantly.  The world has new sounds.  Like an ocean has emerged and waves grow closer and closer to the ear.  The cars.  The lights blurred and beckoning.  The city and the freeway alternate between darkness and light, and driving puts you a little on edge, makes you feel at risk — as it anything could and might happen, but doesn’t yet.  And then you arrive, open the door, and step out into what was pelting the windshield, the slow fall of rain.

I had fun at the non-reading reading (it was actually a year-end party) and got see some of my old poet friends from various parts of southern California.  Numbers were smaller due to the rain (not everyone loves rain like I do), but we did have a good time.  We caught up with each others stories.  And we settled into a lively game of Apples to Apples (which I highly recommend for poets and writers — word association gone awry).

We chatted until late, then I got back in my car and headed home, again through the dark.  But the rain was gone.  The roads slick and clean, almost devoid of cars at times.  The world a clear empty plain.  And home, home came soon enough.  The bed welcoming and wide.  Sleep deep and abundant.

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