I’m wearing a pale orange sweatshirt my aunt Duke got me a while back.  It’s finally getting broken in and acquiring that soft, lived in sensation when you wear it.  Sewn into the chest are the words “The Fool”, along with a reproduction of the classic tarot fool and his dog from the Waite deck.

I’m feeling it.  Roaming too and fro among the halls and rooms of a strange and haunted house of many critters and creatures, all seeking shelter from the daylight, hoping for a room or creaky floorboard to call their own.

A cool, rainy breeze blows on my face as I stand at a window on the end of a crooked hallway.  Took some doing to lift that cracked windowpane and prop it up with a broken chair leg.  Earlier this morning it snowed a little, with snowflakes so fragile they splat into water as soon as they hit the windowpane or your face.  Now it’s a drifty, chilly mist and a cloudy day.

I like rainy days, they always cheer me up.  Not just because they remind me of my old stomping grounds in Portland, Oregon, but because they drive people indoors and quiet them down.  Even the spirits and the ani-mani-mals tend to be calmer and more reserved.  When the rain falls hard enough to make a sound, it’s a pleasant renewal I feel all throughout.

My old 1980 ghetto blaster, still working, plays me a steady tape of old eighties hits.  Right now, it’s blasting out When In Rome’s “The Promise”, which when combined with the airy, ethereal misty rain and cold air that smells so strongly of spring, I can hardly contain my excitement.

I’m thinking of two things.  The first, that if holes in my heart that I thought couldn’t be made well suddenly heal, one after the other, then what kind of person am I that this should happen to me?  How down was I in the depths that I needed several miracles to happen?  Mind you, it’s not a return to things as they were before; it’s a closure — a completion that makes one whole again.

The other thing is a continuation of seeing my friends and noticing a little more than I saw before.  Another friend of mine dropped by on the line to tell me she enjoys my writings on this blog.  My eyes couldn’t leave the huge wolf pup she was holding (she was doing wolf preserve stuff).  I thought that was her dog!

As we chatted, I was blown away how much I didn’t know about her, and how talented and intense she is.  A brilliant, polished gemstone of a woman surrounded by loveliness and living her own self-decided passionate interest.  She was just dropping by, but I was ready to stand on my head after my mind was blown.

Letting the ghost-wind blow it’s thoughts through me.