March // Monday

  1. Snow and rain and sleet, late buses, crowded trains.
  2. Ever the alarmists, the Weather Channel declared last night: “Spring: Canceled.”  I’m going to be upset if we move directly to summer.  DC summer can be canceled.  Montana summer cannot.
  3. Sad stories turn more hopeful when you hear a little more.  Or vice versa sometimes.
  4. Ice melts in spring.  Emotionally, I mean.  I heard a lecture on icebergs and glaciers recently.  It was supposed to be about economics, but I was pretty deeply moved, thinking about melting ice and opportunity.
  5. Metaphor sometimes equals loose thinking.  Slippery, taking symbols too seriously.  Some poets would probably register as psychotic by some assessments.  The difference (I imagine) is being able to pull oneself back to reality, to be able to visit that slippery slope without falling down it.  I have no scientific backing for this — I only experienced something along these lines.  Experience doesn’t count for much these days; we worship numbers and means and trends.  Kind of funny, for such an individualist society.
  6. In the iceberg/glacier lecture, it looked like this: my mind speeding right along, connecting icebergs to everything that was happening in the world (not just global warming).  But I knew it was a lecture, and I knew the guy talking was talking about his reality, not mine.
  7. One of the people interviewed by the lecturer said, after being critical of the scientists coming in and telling them all about their home, “But what do I know? I only live and work here.”
Advertisements

Leave a comment

Filed under Uncategorized

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s