Some mornings you wake up and your body continues to sleep, and only your senses are awake and moving. You mind and body are so still that you almost are in a dream, and your senses feel for you. You almost soak in everything around you in awe. This morning I awoke late, to the sound of pouring rain falling in cadences on the tin of the car port, fall haze shrouding the mountains out my back window. Even now at 10:30 in the morning I feel like I am walking in a dream. My senses are making me think of things that language can't quite describe. I am feeling this feeling:
The feeling you get after hot chochlate.
The feeling of wet, sandaled feet walking through cold, dewey grass.
The sensation of awe you feel at fall leaves rustling in the breeze.
The feeling of warm flannel against your skin.
The feeling of a much needed compliment from someone who knows all your weaknesses and loves you despite all of them.
The sensation of running to make the last entrance time into the British Museum.
The tug of your backpack loaded with concepts you don't quite understand but desire to learn.
The feeling of your date picking you up at the door and you are anticipating a wonderful time, and you are arrived upon just the right outfit.
An oldie-but-goodie like Oklahoma or My Fair Lady making you anticipate a ficticious life with someone as handsome as Carey Grant.
The innocence of the desire for romance you feel at 14 when boys are off limits, but you are picking out your future prom dress from a bride's magazine.
Warm, warm, and oh, so warm again, Campbell's soup that mom gives you while you are sick, tucked into the couch, with soda pop and crackers--and no school.
I'm only happy when it rains.
5 weeks ago