Cieux de Purs Cristal
I just woke up from a bad sleep. You know, usually you wake up and you feel warm and cozy and rested; you snuggle back down into the sheets and doze and maybe even fall back to sleep. I had dreams of being in water and not getting enough air and woke up exhausted and not at all comfortable in my bed.
It’s earlier than I usually get up. Most weekend mornings I do wake up at nine, but I go back to sleep till 11 or so.
Even though I’ve not been outside yet, my open window tells me that today is lovely. It reminds me of the weather when I visited University of Washington in St Louis. It’s sunny, clear, but crisp. The wind is lovely and cool. It reminds me of Aberdeen, too. The mornings of it, anyway. Aberdeen summer mornings are wonderful, just like this. Pure skies, crystal sunlight, and a sweetly chilled breeze. In Aberdeens North Sea location though, it never lasts. Around ten the harr (dark gloomy grey clouds that arrive from the North Sea) comes in and after that it’s typical Aberdeen till evening, when it retreats back to sea long enough for a glorious blaze of gold and a wine colored sunset to tint The Grey City bronze before the sun bids its final farewell, the sky darkens, the stars come out, and the harr arrives once more for the night.
In the summer though, the vast majority of the 24-hour day is ‘daylight’ because Aberdeen is so far north. The sun sets around 11pm and rises at around 4am. So you could get a nice clear morning in if you got up early and took advantage of the morning before the harr makes its entrace.
In the winter, of course, it’s the opposite. The sun rises at 9am and quickly retreats back at 3pm. I love that kind of day. You see, the sun hardly gets above the horizon, so it’s just a whole day of sunrise and sunset,; the shadows never shorten that much and the world goes straight from the virgin morning to the firey evening with no lazy, aged midday in between.
And I’ve felt this morning one more place. Tortola, in the British Virgin Islands. We went there with my dad one spring break long ago, and I slept on a cot in the living room of our little 3-room beach house for a reason I don’t really remember. I think I was afraid of the bedroom for some reason. The glass of the big screen door that lead right out onto the beach was left open, so when I awoke in the cool caribbean mornings I was greated with the soft sound of waves, azure blue skies and cool breezes.
I’ve taken long enough to write this now that the morning’s feeling it’s age, but still I can tell it’s purity. It’s happy memories for me, this morning. It makes me think of summers and springs in all ways, from tropical cruises to playing my violin on my front steps in the luminous Aberdeen mornings. A morning when you feel completely happy with every aspect of yourself; a morning when you feel like you’ve been given a second chance to go at the world with. A morning that could lead to any event and all events. A morning.