This week I’m in Los Angeles for work, and flew down Sunday evening through Salt Lake.
Flying out of Salt Lake, the sun was just setting, brilliant pink, over the ridges of the mountains that ring the airport. You know how some sunsets are a range of colors tumbling one after another? This one was all pink, chased down by deepening shades of blue. We flew through several layers of clouds, and I watched and marveled at the brilliance of that pink pushing through the variable gray-blue gloom of the clouds. It was so beautiful, and I lack the words to do it justice.
Sadly, electronic devices were not yet permitted, so you’re stuck with my sad description.
I find very little about flying these days enjoyable, but one thing I still enjoy is landing at night: how as the plane descends you approach this broad, flat expanse of lights. Some of the lights are moving, some stationary; and as you gradually get closer the lights and the flat expanse shift, and you can start to see structure and dimension, almost like portions of the earth are rising up to greet you. I like to think how those still and moving lights relate to people; maybe someone is walking underneath that streetlight; perhaps the garbage is being emptied in that office window; or how the light spilling out of a living room window might be waiting to welcome someone home.
This weekend, we had a taste of good weather. The sky was perfectly blue with barely a cloud in sight. It was warm. As I am once again sleeping in sweaters, and wrapped in a fleece blanket on the couch, writing this, that was a welcome change.
I was at my parents’, and their flowering pear tree is blooming.
It sits right outside my old bedroom window, and on Saturday I went out to take a closer look at the flowers, only to discover that the tree was positively swarming in bees.
I’m petrified of bees. My sister got married outside last summer, and my parents practically invested in citronella candles and wasp traps for fear that I, the maid of honor, would embarrass everyone at the altar-slash-paper dove garland strung between two trees. In the end, it was too cold and windy for bugs to really be a problem. (Sorry, Mom and Dad!)
There were so many bees on the pear tree that you could hear them buzzing. Did I mention that this tree is right outside my old bedroom window? Let’s hope there aren’t any holes in that window screen. For everyone’s sake.
Later in the afternoon I saw this lone, little cloud in the otherwise perfectly blue sky. I went out to snag a photo, because I love little clouds drifting slowly and alone in the blue sky.
That little non-cloud object obscuring the beautiful blue? A bee.
For Spring Break this year I went to visit my sister in Dallas, and among the number of fun things we did was watch the BBC’s 2004 adaptation of Elizabeth Gaskell’s North and South, which abounds with smoldering glances from the misunderstood John Thornton, played by Richard Armitage.
I had already seen and admired Mr. Armitage on the BBC series “Spooks”, which they play here in the U.S. as “MI-5”. In that series, like in North and South, he plays a tortured soul, haunted by memories of his past. Someday, perhaps, I will understand what exactly it is that makes the tortured soul so attractive.
I’ve also recently discovered the novels of Georgette Heyer, and while my appreciation for these novels is somewhat more reserved than my appreciation for the smoldering glances of immensely good-looking tortured souls, I have certainly enjoyed becoming acquainted with them. They are a delightful distraction from the day-to-day.
Imagine my joy upon discovering that Richard Armitage recently recorded three of Georgette Heyer’s novels for Naxos AudioBooks (The Convenient Marriage, Sylvester, and Venetia)!
It would also appear that these are available from Amazon.
I’m just saying…I do have a birthday. In July.
These shoes and I are ready to go to Dallas!
The salesman was good enough to tell me that they weren’t meant to be worn with hosiery. Indeed.