Outdoors

I just returned home from an excursion to Menemsha. I took my book (Charlie Chaplin's autobiography... he's 8 and still poor right now) and my camera to the beach. I took some beautiful photos of the sunset, which I will post up on this blurb later. And when I was waiting for the sunset to increase in color, I read my book. I believe I looked very picturesque, a girl in a black and green skirt, sitting with legs folded to the side and a book balanced on my thigh, with a camera standing poised to photograph a miracle. Baby miracles came and went, but the big top show comes tomorrow. So I went and bought a Twist, vanilla and chocolate swirl ice cream, in a line with unnumbered small children, and came home.

I showered outside, with only one fence as a barrier to the outside world. I felt exposed and exhilarated. It seemed so exotic and oriental to me. The yellow light from my bedroom flittered from a paper lantern onto the slim, sparse tree just next to me on the other side of the fence. The glinting tree was my foreign bonsai shrubbery. And I felt like a beautiful geisha, washing my hair with expensive oils in a bamboo waterfall.