Log in

No account? Create an account
Reflexive - Weather, Or Not [entries|archive|friends|userinfo]

[ userinfo | livejournal userinfo ]
[ archive | journal archive ]

Reflexive [Jun. 30th, 2010|09:55 pm]
The rented house across the street has new tenants, and they have kids who were out playing on the street this evening. The sound of kids playing at dusk provokes a sense of melancholy for me. When I was that age I never wanted to go in at dusk, especially in summer.

The pools of light under street lamps and the rustling of birds bedding down in bushes, the fading sounds of cars as traffic died down, the freshness of the cooling air and the glow of shaded windows along the street were all too alluring, the games were too much fun.

Dusk was my favorite time of day, but it was always tinged with sadness because I knew I'd be called in at any moment. Now I can stay out all night if I please, but that sadness always returns whenever I hear kids playing at dusk. Out of deep memory I call myself, and my thoughts go in, back to that house where everything ends.

From: (Anonymous)
2010-07-01 06:28 am (UTC)

the green fairy/from santa ana

Is it possible there may be a connection between the green fairy and Tinkerbell? Reading your post from last night I began thinking about Walt Disney.
(Reply) (Thread)
[User Picture]From: flying_blind
2010-07-01 10:06 pm (UTC)

Re: the green fairy/from santa ana

I suppose it's possible that Uncle Walt indulged in a green fairy from time to time. I'd lay odds that J. M. Barrie did.
(Reply) (Parent) (Thread)
[User Picture]From: daisydumont
2010-07-01 11:12 am (UTC)
i always played outside till dark, but my kids never did. it's good to know there are still kids who do.

>Out of deep memory I call myself, and my thoughts go in, back to that house where everything ends.

very nice.
(Reply) (Thread)
[User Picture]From: flying_blind
2010-07-01 10:23 pm (UTC)
We didn't have television until I was almost a teenager, so my only incentive to go inside was radio or reading. Plus we lived in a working class neighborhood with goatloads of kids— there were never fewer than a dozen other boys of about my age living within a short block of our house— so there were always companions and things to do on the street or in yards or on the few acres of eucalyptus-wooded, undeveloped land behind our block. Winter rain was the only thing that could drive us indoors.
(Reply) (Parent) (Thread)