Monday, March 15, 2010

Four-leaf clovers

I thought I slept okay, but then I wake up with this, this feeling, this feeling in my head -- what’s in my head? I’m on the fire escape, trying to get extra sun, because I’ll be in Seattle for a week and then there won’t be much sun, that’s for sure -- can I store it in my body? Although there will be plenty of air, oh that soft moist Seattle air this time of year it should be lovely. Maybe it will clear my head.

Then I’ll be in LA, where there will be plenty of sun but no air. I just looked up the weather, and they claim the air quality is good. I guess that means that the bureau of tourism decides the air quality now.

I’m getting ready for the 24-hour train, not quite sure why I’m going: I just want to look for four-leaf clovers with my grandmother, bend down in the grass and no, that one’s five leaves, that one’s six -- can’t five or six leaves mean extra luck? Sometimes she puts them in tiny gilded aluminum frames, I keep them on the bookshelf in my room. When you look closely in the grass, you find all sorts of things: weeds, ants, those tiny white flowers with brown in the middle, little trees just starting off, dandelions, buttercups, sometimes even a violet -- Rose, a violet, how did it get there? She hugs me because I’m special. We put the violet in a vase.