Snowtrenched
It’s cold season in Orlando. I’m unemployed and the weather is almost as cold as it was in 2002 and 2003. It’s 60-65 during the day and 45-50 at night and it’s only mid-November. I’ve got a Glade Butterfly Garden candle (actually it’s Suddenly Spring, but I think it’s the same scent renamed). I’m listening to The Smiths singles album and Built to Spill.
I like repeating these patterns and building layers upon them. The other day I played the Liars end track “This Dust Makes That Mud” from their album that year… the one that ends with a 30 minute hypnotic loop. Back then I would listen to that secret weapon— my agent provocateur — and become ultraproductive in my self-indulgent thought process, and maybe write something self-involved. This time I wrote a community-indulgent manifesto piece for my new company.
Patterns and development.
Last night on the drive to Joe’s for a fire pit gathering I saw that the city put up their annual decorative light pole Christmas trees. Those twinkling trees are small — maybe four feet, and hang on every light pole on the backbone streets of the city. They always appear unexpectedly tout de suite, as if placed there by angels, and indicate the atmospheric transition into fall. The REAL fall— the fall into winter and all of its beautiful implications.
I’ve made over a hundred fires in this very fire pit, now at its third Orlando location. This fire pit has made my hair smell like smoked pulled pork over a hundred times.
We’ve burned wood appropriated from the local BBQ chain restaurant. We’ve burned a dollar bill in an unceremonious sacrifice presided over by Josh in the season when the electric company shut us down. We sat quietly and stared at our reflections in the flames and cherchez la femme.
These cold seasons are the times when the glowing chunks of oak and warmth of fraternity burn hotter and brighter than ever, yet the cold that penetrates our marrow allows us to finally be alone and reconcile ourselves with the Earth and with God.
Layers and growth. Nostalgia and the Present.
Future.
This winter will be colder than ever.
