I left Brooklyn for California four months ago, which is long enough to get used to buying wine at the grocery store, but short enough that I still remember things like what a real bagel feels like (tough) and where to wait on the G platform (the middle) and when a true gentleman should sit down on the subway (never, according to my friend Tony). I miss all the obvious stuff: friends, taxis, foldable pizza. I knew those would hurt, and they do. But I didn’t know I’d miss clouds. (Image via pixabay.)
Sometime near the end of September, I started wondering if it was ever going to be cool again.
My bike is a silver Suzuki (Metallic Mystic Silver, to be specific). I named her Roberta, and I love her.
"Sometimes I go about pitying myself, and all the while I am being carried across the sky by beautiful clouds.” - Ojibwe proverb
—Nefelomanzia, said the man, it’s a Greek word, nefele means cloud and manzia, to foretell, nefelomanzia is the art of predicting the future by observing the clouds, or rather, the form of the clouds, because in this art, form is substance, and that’s why I’ve come on vacation to this beach, because a friend from the air force who deals with meteorology assured me that in the Mediterranean there’s no other coast like this one where clouds form on the horizon in an instant. And as quickly as they take shape they dissolve again, and it’s right in that instant that a real nefelomant must practice his art, to understand what the shape of a certain cloud foretells before the formation dissolves in the wind, before it transforms into transparent air and turns to sky.
- Antonio Tabucchi, "Clouds," translated by Martha Cooley & Antonio Romani
Image: Gilda, the 23-kiloton air-deployed nuclear weapon detonated on July 1, 1946 during Crossroads Able.
Every year, as summer comes to a close and the trees start to turn, I dream of finally becoming a really impressive cold-weather dresser: the kind of girl who wears a coat and a scarf and boots and yet magically somehow doesn't look like she's given up/is maybe wearing pajamas beneath that parka. It's a big dream, and one I don't ever seem to realize.
