December Eve

This is my 500th post. Granted, you can only see 200-some posts; however, that is only because a few weeks back, I completely redid this blog; I reformatted and redesigned and revamped. I deleted some things, kept others--including a count--of how many posts I had. Public or not, the creation of this post is my blog's 500th. The blog itself always has room to grow and change and accommodate, but I wanted to start by erasing some of the more embarrassing posts--the ones about style and collages and wish lists and inane-ness that, frankly, I didn't really care about.


...and now I am frantically panicking over how to accommodate the preposition in the previous sentence. Because that's who I am; I'm one to use prepositions correctly. And one to start sentences with the word "because." And one to write fragments. Deliberate fragments.

That reminds me of a time long ago, back in fifth grade, when my tall, bearded teacher taught us that the word "No" is an entire sentence. "It can't be!" we fought back, yelling and pointing at the chalkboard. "How is 'no' a sentence? Where's the verb? The subject?" He explained to us, patiently, the implied subject, the sense of action with the invisible words, No, I will not.


Just as those words were unseen, but understood, my imagination puts descriptions and titles and letters and sounds to each image I see. Old. Gone. Not for awhile. Golden. Unnoticed. Unimaginable. Invincible. Magical. Simon and Garfunkel accompany me as I drive up and over the hills, around terraces and onto gravel. Dust spills into the air, follows me and traces me back home. The upbeat twang of Sarah Jarosz attaches itself to the dirt on the bottom of my shoes, and the beat of "Song Up In Her Head" follows me and pounds through my black boots and into my calves, my thighs, my hips, my heart, my head.

The Virgin Mary
All dressed in blue
Sings 'My First Lover'
For an audience of two

And there it is, again--the reminder that today is December Eve. Goodbye November; goodbye gluttonous habits and rainy days and orange glows. Goodbye to farmers in the field, turning leaves and vivid colors. Goodbye to fall ... and hello to a season, to a time of cold crispness and the gift of presence. Not presents.