Thursday, September 29, 2011

If you're vaguely attracted to rooftops

Typhoon 8 today! Which means no school. Kind of disappointed, really, as today
is my favourite school day from our 12 day cycle (I know it's crazy).
Anyway, I watched Glee this morning, and it made me cry! Dianna Agron's acting
skills have improved a lot. And Finn is the cutest guy in the world. Artie and Kurt
too, haha!
Browsing around on the best-website-in-the-world now.
Wilco is going to have a new album, which is very exciting as I'd forgotten all about
them and assumed they vanished.
So, typhoons...
The wind was howling last night, and I was outdoors, too, shepherding parents around
for the Open House. My hair was tearing away from my scalp. My locks were throwing
themselves in all plausible directions. It was great.
I was on the seventh floor, so I had a brilliant view of the commotion below. The
trees were in a rage, an immense storm, hurling shadows on the pavements. All
in all, an incredibly windy night. Walking home, leaves were cutting through the air and
thick branches were strewn across the road -- dangerous, really, if you think about
it. I love it when the trees dance but last it was a bit like a riot.
Speaking of riot, listen to this:

Typhoons make me miss living by the sea dearly. When there were typhoons the sea
would be majestic and the clouds would roll in in great dark patches and shield
the sky.
I remember filming on camera a sight like that years ago...
it was a spectacle I'll never forget, as I told myself then and am telling myself now.
So it had just stopped pouring, and the air went all hazy and the mist crept in over
the whole sky. Then, from over the buildings on the right, a great black roll of cloud
was lumbering over.. my siblings and I were there in our pajamas, waiting for it to reach
the centerpiece of the sky, and when it did, we filmed it. It got darker as it came, so dark
that it contrasted shockingly with the rest of the humid sky. It rolled over the hazed white
of the sky until the entire vastness of it was one dark patch, and the sea began to thunder
and the waves were rolling and lapsing and crashing against everything they could reach.
Then, of course, the great fog eventually passed like all things do and the sky was left
as it was before, but with a tinge of change to it as if it had been unforgettably altered
somewhat. Even now, I can see that  great cloud rolling over the sea slowly and
patiently, as if savouring the journey. There are moments like that I'll never forget.
"There's a lot to be said for living near the sea, reminding you of timescales far more slow and enduring than your own."