As if my Brain had split--
I tried to match it--Seam by Seam--
But could not make them fit.
“The thought behind, I strove to join
Unto the thought before--
But Sequence ravelled out of Sound
Like Balls--upon a Floor.”
Emily Dickinson, The Lost Thought
I’ve heard of balls to the wall, but I’ve never heard of anybody feeling like balls upon a floor. Well, maybe close – I sometimes feel more like those loose balls of dust that gather themselves into corners neglected by the mop – almost, but not quite, coherently ball-like. Would balloid describe that in-between state? Is that what Emily meant?
It’s rained heavily the past few days. The other night, when warning about the coming storm, the weather dude explained we’d have over 8 inches of rain so far (for the year that begins 7/1/08, but wherein the rain doesn’t fall until January), and that the average by this date is only six inches. He reminds us, as we sit before a toasty fire, we’re still in a drought.
If there was a webcam in my yard, it would be obscured by the green shade-cloth that has come unhooked and is flapping in the strong gusty wind. It’s also cold outside – in the 50F range. I know, that’s not something most people would consider cold, but to those of us who have acclimated to So Cal, it’s winter if it’s necessary to actually wear a coat when you go outside.
Days like these are good days to get lost in thought - as opposed to lost from thought.
6 comments:
HA WS, balls to the wall, yes, but our dear innocent Emily may have been referring to marbles, as in losing them. :-) Eight inches of rain for you is surreal. I like the thought of the web cam with the shade cloth flapping wildly. I do admit to using our fireplace when we lived in So. Cal. too. And freezing at a son's baseball game in early spring with our heaviest coats, hats and gloves brought from PA when we moved there. Stay warm and safe.
Frances
I think rain is good. A nice time to think for sure.
I think Emily was way ahead of her time. Her oblique stab in the dark at left- and right-brain abilities makes me wonder if she wasn't just a little hot under the collar about a "woman's place" in the home/society? I hope you stay warm, WS, and thanks for the infusion of Em!
I find myself, as winter cleaves into spring, rifted between wanting to remain submerged in the comfort of dark evenings by the fire, and the light and warmth of spring.
It was around 50 degrees F today in London today, the park full of people infected with spring fever (marbles lost?), children playing football and licking ice creams.
When I read the poem the first thing I thought of was balls of yarn - with the thoughts trailing the unravelling ball. But Emily Dickinson might think that thought was really unravelled.
Eight inches of rain! We are also in deep drought, and want such watery riches, but not all at once!
Annie at the Transplantable Rose
I can easily identify with this post. The majority of the time I don't feel whole...I feel scattered. The only time that I feel whole is when I'm alone and one with nature.
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