Jun 14th 2012
All night the wind blew. With most of the doors and windows open it was almost like sleeping outdoors. All night the wind ruffled my hair. This morning it still blows, with low clouds, and more water in the marsh than I have ever seen except during a hurricane. I want to stay indoors and watch through the open door. I want to listen. Birds fly in one direction only.
Jim has gone out running for the first time in weeks. In this wind. I listen for the door. Last night he snored all night. A symphony of wakefulness. For me. I think he is running because of the snoring. Because I complained. I imagine what I would do if he never came back.
A small black bird perches on the deck railing just outside the open door. She struggles to stay upright. She is gone. Into the wind. I see that I was wrong. They can fly in both directions. Downstairs I hear the slamming door.
It’s me, he calls.
Good, I reply.