Days 46-49 – Oh! It’s raining. And the sounds, not just of the rain hitting the rooftops, but of the ground absorbing and digesting it, becoming soft. It sounds like the soil is breathing. Insects hum and hiss. The sky is light gray, both impenetrable and deep, like some mood or atmosphere ushered in from a location beyond today.
I am happy, cozy in my studio grading papers and commenting on poems. I can hear the church bells. The sounds of my neighbors preparing lunch. I just want to be here and I am here.
Last night I went to a little wine store with a bar and a few tables for eating dinner. I sat on old leather love-seat beside a new friend, sipping wine, talking about the ways words are made differently than art, a more tenuous translation from emotion to expression. He said, I’ve never wanted to miss my flight before and we laughed about that. Candles and rows of bottles filled the bar. A waiter leaning over us to take down a bottle for someone.
Today is the first of October.
I got the idea to read a novel that takes place in Berlin while I’m here, so I downloaded The Berlin Stories by Christopher Isherwood.
I get lost in being here, that is, I get caught up in the city so that I become a part of it and forget where I am, that I’m away from home. Maybe I could be anywhere and feel that I’m alive. That sense of presence, for any reason, is a gift.
30 Days to Berlin 