11/6/17
i'm thankful that yesterday morning, d was driving us to the grocery store so we could do our shopping before it started raining in the afternoon and we were listening to "mourning sound" by grizzly bear, which is an elegant and powerful song, it carries you on railroad tracks of bass into a ruined amphitheater filled with fog and flowers that glow in the dark.
i'm thankful that during the ride, there were so many newly turned leaves to see. i'm thankful that it's very hilly here, even though sometimes that's annoying, because the way each hill obscures what's on the other side of it creates a sense of drama and then there is, cresting the hill, the sudden exposure of a postcard, a vista which depending on the height of the hill or the fall of the subsequent valley, might stretch out for miles.
i'm thankful, yesterday morning, for the way each vista was remade by the new colors of the leaves on the trees framing it. i'm thankful to have thought about leaves becoming their most beautiful as they decay, tiny funerals in the form of explosions of hue and saturation. i'm thankful for peach, for pumpkin, for copper, for chocolate, for cinnamon, for cherry, for burnt sienna, for goldenrod.
i'm thankful that after we were done with our shopping and were headed home, the air got thicker and darker, so we wondered if we would be caught in the shower or make it home in time. i'm thankful to have seen new trees i hadn't seen going the other direction as we retraced our route. i'm thankful that though we were annoyed to be stopped in traffic because of church getting out, it gave us a moment to appreciate a particularly rich stand of red trees dividing the church's grounds from a large empty field. i'm thankful that we were listening to "dreams," which is just the music to listen to before a storm. i'm thankful thunder only happens when it's raining.
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