Engraved

I drove behind a ute that had packing boxes in the tray and a couple of chairs and some plastic bags, from one of the bags there was a flurry of little styrofoam balls that whipped up into the air as he drove along, each one finding a slightly different current, a slightly different invisible force. I followed him for about a kilometer, I had this wistful Japanese post-rock music playing on the stereo in the car, and for no reason I can offer you, the whole scene felt very close, very familiar. 

I love the way certain things which were never intended to fly, are able to, I live in an apartment and about 15 metres in front of the balcony there are three old and large London Plane trees, they have these big beautiful five pointed leaves that are similar to that of a maple, by the start of Winter there are enough gathered on the ground so that when the wind picks up they go with it, so for about a month each year I find myself sitting in the living room looking out and seeing individual leaves fly straight up, like little rockets, coming into then out of view within moments.

The moon is beautiful at the moment, you can feel that it’s almost Autumn, for whatever reason Autumn weather makes the sky turn slowly, the air becomes thick and heavy, locking everything from the moon, stars, to the clouds perfectly in place, perfectly still, even the light seems to diffuse differently, slower, wider, in distinguished arcs not just ambient.

Sometimes when the full moon is out I like to stand by the edge of the sea and look out over the open water, the moon seems to cast a direct beam of light the length of the water to exactly where I am, a light to help me see my surroundings, the celestial lamp left to hang in the sky revealing this long silver path atop the water that can only be seen by moonlight, always leading over the horizon, shimmering silver in the night air, a path that actually goes nowhere particular, but that seems as though it would lead all the way to the moon if you were to walk it, and I think I’d like to walk it, even if it is just an illusionary path into the heavens, one you could spend a dozen lifetimes on and still never meet it’s the end, still never be any closer no matter how long you’ve been walking it.

On a more grounded note, I sold my car last week and for two days I had Auld Lang Syne playing on loop in my head, because as it turns out, my subconscious is actually rather embarrassing.