kissing dreams good-night

It is in these dark hours of solitude that the words flow, not unlike the constant sound of water dancing downward from the fountains I read about adorning the piazzas of Italy and the courtyards of Spain. Despite aching muscles and the exhaustion of my body, my spirit soars in these late hours, inspiration the confidante begging me to share my secrets.

My dreams grow in the night, taking me on journeys through foreign lands, through gardens and ancient ruins, along a pilgrimage that I long to walk upon in my own life some day. I can see the olive groves, smell the blood oranges, taste the rich pastries and bitter, thick coffee. In the European countryside, I can feel the sweet tickling of grass beneath bare feet and hear the bells of a million cathedrals. In my dreams, I can live this life in all its beauty and magnificence.

But the dreams can only carry me so far these nights. These dreams are merely that, a dream and not my reality. And so inevitably, I am pulled back to the awareness of my body, my mind, and the encompassing need for sleep. I must close the pages, but gingerly, tenderly, as if the very pages are the dreams of my soul. The exquisite delicacy of words makes me hungry for adventure, travel, journeys to unknown places. This hunger cannot be sated, not yet. And so for now, for tonight, I will leave my dreams with a momentary farewell kiss and quiet the words of passion that ache to be written.

to feel a Southern summer

It feels like summer here in the South. The sun shines nearly every day, the temperatures reaching to the 90’s this week. The air is heavy with humidity, sweat beading up on bare skin within moments of stepping outside. With the heat, the weather has brought those initial feelings of summer. Even with school back in session and working my three jobs, life feels easier, more carefree and natural.

This week has found me stealing hours in the late afternoons, lounging in the backyard with Mayes’ “Bella Tuscany”. While the pups nap in the freshly cut grass, I dream of Italy and devour the poetic prose of this delicious book.

A night out to dinner with a dear old friend whom I hadn’t seen in ages, a perfect evening of bruschetta, cold antipasta, and Italian wine, all in the spirit of dreams. Long conversations sparked the scent of nostalgia and we found ourselves reliving road trips through the desert and hot August nights when the heat left us sprawled atop the thinnest white sheets with fans blasting from every direction. Words took us back through endless delectable meals, the mellow tunes and soulful lyrics that played background to the Spanish poetry we read aloud into the early morning hours. As the years have passed and life has led us in separate directions, it was sheer pleasure to dwell in these memories, if only for an evening.

After two recent weekends of introductory gardening and then reading of all the orchards and groves so intricately described in “Bella Tuscany”, I was inspired to spend my morning studying up on fruit trees and flowers. Lemon trees with their vibrant sunshine yellow against the backdrop of emerald green leaves. Pear trees and peaches, ripened to a juicy sweetness in the heat of summer. Blackberry bushes and raspberries bursting into life with a vibrancy tinged fuchsia. White hydrangeas in their elegant innocence, bromeliads in hues of orange and crimson. And my favorite flower of all, blackened center bursting outward in thick petals of exploding gold. In the image of the sunflower, I can dream for hours, literally feeling the intensified rush of life swell within me.

Reality still greets me in the mornings. Tomorrow promises to be a long day beginning with work at 5 a.m. Books on the ethics and laws of psychology now compete with my stack of memoirs recounting meaningful experiences of life around the globe. But now instead of taking breaks to read a short passage of intoxicating prose or feel a few moments of the sun’s warmth on my skin…instead of taking a break from grading tests and studying and working to indulge in a glass of refreshing wine, I take a break from the books and the sun and the wine to grade a test or study for an hour or go to work. Instead of being stuck in the reality of day-to-day obligations, I am embracing each moment that I can of this dreamy life of simple pleasures.