the cosmolinguist (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
cosmolinguist) wrote2007-08-24 08:16 am
cosmolinguist) wrote2007-08-24 08:16 am
Entry tags:
Take Nicollet out to the ocean
Maybe it's because I got my mp3 player working again so I can listen to the still-new-to-me Hold Steady album Boys and Girls in America that made me think about Minneapolis even though this album seems less about that than the previous two were.
But I think it's the sunshine that left me feeling Minnesota as I stood there waiting for a bus to work on Wednesday afternoon. I just wanted to sit outside with a cold root beer or maybe some iced tea and listen to the Twins play.
For, as I then tried to rationalize, the sunshine seems more familiar than anything else. It travels better. There certainly aren't the blizzards here that I'm used to in the winter. There's rain in both places of course, but it feels different: at home you can see the black clouds rolling across the fields off to the west and think about what this will do to the crops, the land.
Here, it rains so hard it bounces off the sidewalk and soaks my ankles no matter how good my umbrella is, or it just drizzles in a way that permeates everything and leaves me feeling damp even when I am inside. Just misery with no context or benefit that I can see; it's arbitrarily judgmental like some old cranky beardy desert god.
Sunny days, I decided, are the same everywhere. Rainy days are each rainy in their own way.
But I think it's the sunshine that left me feeling Minnesota as I stood there waiting for a bus to work on Wednesday afternoon. I just wanted to sit outside with a cold root beer or maybe some iced tea and listen to the Twins play.
For, as I then tried to rationalize, the sunshine seems more familiar than anything else. It travels better. There certainly aren't the blizzards here that I'm used to in the winter. There's rain in both places of course, but it feels different: at home you can see the black clouds rolling across the fields off to the west and think about what this will do to the crops, the land.
Here, it rains so hard it bounces off the sidewalk and soaks my ankles no matter how good my umbrella is, or it just drizzles in a way that permeates everything and leaves me feeling damp even when I am inside. Just misery with no context or benefit that I can see; it's arbitrarily judgmental like some old cranky beardy desert god.
Sunny days, I decided, are the same everywhere. Rainy days are each rainy in their own way.