wellfleet beach by shridar ganesan

A young man just walked by with a cellphone at his ear.  I will not discuss the attachment of cellphones to nearly every one’s ear in public.  I keep mine in my bag, and it rings at inappropriate times such as during class.  Then it rings to tell me I missed that call.  The after- ring.  Still, I will not talk about cellphones.

I’ve been thinking about Provincetown again.  Maybe because I associate with my work, and I’m working again, on a new novel.  Today’s weather reminds me in part of Provincetown, the grey with lighter grey in the sky, the hushed sound.  Can I imagine the roar of the see as I hear a car in the distance?  Above, Wellfleet.  Perhaps I’ll move back, or back to Sag Harbor.  In one year, I’ll be back on the job search, although how nice it is to think of just writing, with a little half-time position somewhere to give me structure.

Yesterday my cousin’s daughter got married, and I imagined the bright silk saris and some of the ceremony.  I even went on-line to see if I could find images of south Indian wedding ceremonies, to somehow vicariously take part.  In a month, I will receive pictures–more likely, downloads on the computer.

Hasn’t begun to rain.  Other people write about world events–I track the weather.