All That Yellow

Sunday letter to a friend:

We went to the movie, Salmon Fishing in Yemen. 

It was very good. Beautiful scenery and characters. I liked it. I love movies, good ones, and of course, they leave me wanting. Wanting my life to change in some way, wanting to be in a movie, or make a film, or be in Scotland or have a handsome, quirky character fall in love with me and change my whole life...silly, i know, wanting wanting wanting when all the masters teach...

be where you are.


They say,

who is the one who wants so much? 

watch her. 

observe her. 

don't judge her.

I am writing you from the bed upstairs with my cat, Owen. Claire in her room doing scientific experiments? Michael down the hall in our library room stretched out reading. 


The house is very quiet. You would like it.

At the movie I kept myself contained, sitting between Michael and Claire in the back row of the theater; knees tucked up to my chest. Half-way through I reached over and took Michael's hand and then Claire took my other hand. We were holding hands and watching a movie in the dark.

My house is quiet. 

The cat sleeping, snoring.

Dog too.

I am cozy. 

Surrounded by books and people who love me.

Warm bed, pillows. 

Dogwood tree in white bloom out the window. 

Shades of green everywhere.

I'm remembering the mustard field. 

Claire walking down the rows, and you calling out, be careful of the ticks!

We were giddy over all that yellow.