the usual suspects

The Cusp

You know what being on the cusp is, right? It's a perch on the moment, an almost endless interval before the moment occurs but close enough to see it coming.

I'm on the cusp of a move. I've spent 2 years north of the Mason-Dixon line, a place I was probably never meant to be. The duration is just about over, now, as I prepare to head back to another place where I was probably never meant to be but at least at the right latitude.

Changes in latitude, changes in attitude ... it's not just a song.

I've watched the light change as the year progresses, which I never really noticed before. I've driven through vast empty fields where nothing blocks the wind, and the wind makes it's presence felt. I've trod carefully over ice-covered streets and sidewalks, never quite slipping but coming close enough to taste real fear of a broken bone.

I've had some of the worst nights of my life, but they weren't associated with this place necessarily and they are in the past.

I will end up back in a sun-drenched valley where so many things started and nothing seemed like home. I have a bit of a drive to get there, but drives aren't the problem for me that once they were. I'll have another den to slip into, though for the first time the new den will have a washer and dryer. I'll even have easy access to a racquetball court, which hasn't been true since college.

Some good things happened there. I have to remember that.

Pretty soon I'll be past the cusp, following the sun's daily path and winter-to-summer path. The moment will have passed, and a new moment will be waiting somewhere. Nothing like life, hmm?

Posted by PyeCat at July 17, 2004 05:33 AM