The weather has been doing very October-ish things the past few days – windy nights, rainy sidewalks covered with leaves, that kind of thing. This morning there was a bright sunny wash over everything, which was nevertheless golden – exactly like the proper light for late afternoon, but at ten in the morning; it was some sort of presage to a cap of gray clouds (and I mean a cap here: clouds in northeastern England are usually fairly stormy and complex-looking, but for some reason the past two days we have had utterly flat, dark gray cloud covers, which look from beneath almost like enormous round disks).
Slightly odd dreams, in that warm winter bedding that's so much harder to abandon: dreams with a tangle of elements from all over – real and imagined, past/present, things that can't fit together in the real world – but all apparently smoothed into a tale of safety, of escape, of freedom. Staying with my eldest sister in her New England house (she doesn't actually live in New England); talking to Trisha H., who then plans to visit, as I extend my vacation in this house for weeks, and weeks; investigating a local gay club, whose intricate elevator and stair systems lead past rooms with translucent walls where I can see the shadows of violinists practicing classical music; and then going outside on a vast roof, to see sugar maples, and other (nonexistent) trees of autumn New England, which have somehow gotten 'sugar' attached to their names....
What odd wish fulfillments are these. But all elements of a world that is safer and more pleasant than the one I've got.
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