I had a very peculiar night. I woke up about 3 a.m. and the wind was roaring outside -- really blowing hard. I got up and watched the trees sway, wondering whether anything outside needed to be rescued or battened down. I couldn't think of anything so I went back to bed, and the atmospheric conditions seemed to represent what then went on in my head -- my own thoughts swirling and swirling.
I was unsettled partly because I had a frustrating day at work yesterday, for no very significant reason. I was also thinking about our vacation plans this summer -- Dave and I had a vague idea that we might go to South America (an early celebration for my 50th birthday in November). But the Olympics are in Rio this summer, and besides I can't quite bring myself to pull it together planning-wise, so I'm beginning to think it would make sense to put that off until next year. Maybe we'll just go to Scandinavia or somewhere closer. Maybe Cornwall. With Olga.
I also may have been unsettled because right before bed I almost finished Sally Mann's book, and she wrote about photographing a place in Tennessee known as the "body farm" -- where dead bodies are basically laid out in the open, in a forested area, for all of nature to feast upon. Her pictures were certainly vivid. In a way, it sounds like a reasonable way to go -- back to nature, back to the trees and critters. I mean, why not? Why be in a hermetically sealed box? Why burn up thousands of BTUs of energy in a cremation? I'd like to provide fuel for all the living things on the planet, rather than take it away.
Maybe I'll leave myself to the body farm. But hopefully not anytime soon.
I finally fell asleep about 4:30, Olga and Dave both snoring beside me, and slept a few more hours. So all in all I got a pretty good night's sleep, brief windy-whirly period notwithstanding.
(Photo: A newsstand off Oxford Street, mid-February.)