Monday, September 29, 2008
FROM MORNING DRIVE JOURNAL
SEPTEMBER 30, 2002
We've had gentle weather over the weekend, though a thunderstorm rolled through Madison in the middle of the night Saturday night as we stayed down there. The flash and boom were soothing in a middlewestern way. We know storms; we accept them; we take them or they take us.
The count is 3, 2, 1. Wednesday is my last day of work. Thursday I am "retired."
The sun today is a surprise of intensity. It's atumn, the brightness of summer, the flash of jewel in the morning sky.
3, 2, 1 days til retirement. Then I must prove to myself that I can and will write. There will be no excuses.
There's a bank of clouds below the sun, greyness to the south and north and west, just a hole in the east letting morning light through.
North of Fairwater a momentary spit of mist. Lets have sun and snow and rain in the next three days, the sum of everything I've experienced driving to work at RCP these past 24 years. Let it all come, let it go.
SEPTEMBER 30, 2002
We've had gentle weather over the weekend, though a thunderstorm rolled through Madison in the middle of the night Saturday night as we stayed down there. The flash and boom were soothing in a middlewestern way. We know storms; we accept them; we take them or they take us.
The count is 3, 2, 1. Wednesday is my last day of work. Thursday I am "retired."
The sun today is a surprise of intensity. It's atumn, the brightness of summer, the flash of jewel in the morning sky.
3, 2, 1 days til retirement. Then I must prove to myself that I can and will write. There will be no excuses.
There's a bank of clouds below the sun, greyness to the south and north and west, just a hole in the east letting morning light through.
North of Fairwater a momentary spit of mist. Lets have sun and snow and rain in the next three days, the sum of everything I've experienced driving to work at RCP these past 24 years. Let it all come, let it go.
