storm

A sudden storm passed over the house about half an hour ago. The sky divided suddenly into darkness and light.

Within two or three minutes, clouds began to swirl overhead, but no rain fell.

The weight and motion of the clouds were ethereal.

(all: carlisle, massachusetts, 16 july 2010)

early evening, carlisle

(both: carlisle, massachusetts, 14 july 2010)

the sky above north florida

jacksonville, florida, 3 july 2010

jacksonville, florida, 3 july 2010

fort caroline, jacksonville, florida, 2 july 2010

ponte vedra beach, florida, 4 july 2010

ponte vedra beach, florida, 5 july 2010

I've lived in Massachusetts on and off since I moved here for college in 1995.  Sunday, 29 January 1995, to be exact.  Such a terrifying day, and cold.  A close friend gave me a going-away present and with it was a card in which she'd written: "All great deeds and all great thoughts have a ridiculous beginning."  Camus, I think.  There was an extent to which decamping Florida for Massachusetts in January was absurd.  But it felt like the absolute right thing to do.

And it was.

And so.  I've spent the last ten minutes trying to come up with an adequate transition, something less melancholy than "Goodbye to All That" but still insightful, smartly wistful, but I'm not sure I'm up to the task.  What I really want to say is that we spent a week visiting my grandmother in north Florida, and I miss the heck out of it.  The smell of the woods and the ocean.  Short mid-afternoon thunderstorms that come out of nowhere.  Palm trees, pavement and sun.  Mid-century architecture good, bad and awful.  Salt marshes.  Live oaks and Spanish moss.  Corn bread.  Cheese grits.  Fried shrimp.  Krispy Kreme.