Thursday, March 22, 2007

Spring drops.

Lately I’ve been wondering why I even go to sleep at night. I try and get to bed semi-early, only to wake up around 4 or 5. I proceed to putter around my place for a bit (not unlike a crazy old person), look out at the quiet street from my second bedroom/office, then go back for a couple hours before the alarm goes off. It’s become a bit of an odd routine this week. (That, along with people I’ve never met having starring roles in my black-and-white sleeping dreams.)

So, today (well, yesterday, by the time this posts) was the first day of Spring—for me, this only excites me because I know the real heat will be coming soon. It means the pool will open, the grill will get used and I’ll start to regularly hike my legs off as the weekend warrior I plan on being. Today didn’t necessarily feel so Spring-y, however. My sweater and wool pants combo were further testament of the chill factor. The sun was out, but my bones were still all set to shiver if they needed to.

Now, if we want to drop deep for a second, then, I had my personal change of seasons a few nights ago. I don’t know exactly what night it was, but I remember how it felt.

I’d woken up, as per usual, and decided to go look out my window again. Why I ever want to look out the window is beyond me. I live in a fairly urban part of the city—where the business district meets up with those who’ve chosen to live as city dwellers—so I basically just see a street lamp, a couple large trees and the occasional passer-by. This late night/early morning, though, no cars were passing by. It was too early. Nobody was standing two floors below, either, kind enough to send me their wafts of secondhand cigarette smoke. The smokers had gone to bed as well.

Instead, it had started to rain a cold rain. I enjoy the rain. I like the smell of wet cement from below. I like the cool humidity it entails. And, during this half-sprinkle, half-shower, it took on the reverence that usually accompanies a snowstorm. The world had fallen silent. Everything had been muffled to a large degree. The music of my twilight then—my soundtrack, if you will—was the pitter-pat of the drops as they hit the tree leaves. Listening to that sound alone was hypnotic for me. If I concentrate, I can hear it now.

Some kind of switch was flipped inside me at that moment. That was my renewal, my moment of being reborn. It was my change of seasons. Having gone through much of the past month in some kind of a haze for various reasons, it took this magical experience for me to snap out of it. And I was thankful for that. So thankful, in fact, that I transformed myself into some kind of cell phone poet and immediately sent a wee stanza-poem to those I thought wouldn’t get mad at me for poeticizing at such an odd hour. I couldn’t help it. I wanted to share this with them. It was the act of an excited man.

I thrill at my opportunity to begin anew. If you ask me how I feel and I answer that I feel like a-million dollars, then, please know I’m not exaggerating, because I really do. I’ve woken from my long winter’s nap. I have a strong feeling I’ll be running—be it literally or figuratively—for many, many days to come.

And, hey, go read this when you can spare a few seconds. I really enjoyed it.


Sarita said...

Thanks for sharing your renewal of spirits.

I consistantly wake at 3am. If I could just figure out how to snooze my internal alarm, we could hang out. :)

-annabelle said...

if by any happy chance you see me on saturday, please say hi.
it would be great.

aisy said...

ah the rain... when i woke to the pitter patter, i smiled then thought 'crap, i left my runners outside.'

Cindy said...

I'm excited to get back to the thunder. Thunderstorms are rare here in Seattle.

P.S. Your link to Camille's blog on here has an extra http in it.

Dainon said...

Thanks for the ketch, cap'n. It has been fixed.

Anonymous said...

i like rain. i was awake and wandering around my room, like a fellow crazed old person, when I received your text. It was too beautiful for me to know how to respond. I just went outside and stared at the moon instead. Thanks for your words.

f*bomb. said...

I woke up like that just the other day- it was 'coz I dreamt I created the new line of Career BarbieTM, and was running through a massive picnic of friends, drinking a champagne flute of pink lemonade wearing a puffy, sparkle-fushia dress. That makes a great morning, too.

For the record: I hate the rain. It makes my hair big and there is just nothing I can do about it. Plus, it makes me fall in love with pretty much anybody holding my hand. Rain sucks.