My favorite kind of sky.
I'm sure that all Midwesterners have moments when they are tempted by warmer locales. You know, the places with blue skies and bodies of water that don't look as gray and angry as a bucket of mop water. I'm tempted in the middle of winter, when it seems like there's no hope, and I drop my keys into a snowbank while balancing a baby on one hip and a bag of groceries on the other.
But it's days like today--37-ish degrees, totally overcast, humid air from melted snow--that I just couldn't live without. To me, this is the ultimate thinking weather. The ultimate weather for poetry, as if those fragmentary thoughts get tangled up in the clouds and don't dissapate like they usually would. I wish our entire winter was like this.
Not surprisingly, it's pretty quiet in my office right now, especially compared to the mayhem I've been immersed in at home. Tonight I'm going to toast Barn Owl Review #1, which is now at the printer. The final lineup is here. Happy 2008 to everyone!