Oh, I remember those delicious side trips to Thompson library this summer, which held all the associations of travel with none of the expense. I remember those impressive, impassive surroundings, flanked by trees shedding like dogs in the heat. I remember how the reading room was recently featured on 60 Minutes, showing the correspondent strolling through with Fed chief Ben Bernanke: arguably the second most powerful man in America was ambling in the very room I spent some time in this past summer.
Was reminded of sense memories yesterday while watching Samantha Brown's trip on the Freedom of the Seas cruise ship. There she was in that gaudy midway, with pubs full of drinks and drinkers. Then too the bracing balcony views, where I puff an imaginary cigar in my mind's eye.
Oh but I also recall that single moment, dare I say singular one, poolside Wednesday with the full hull of day ahead. What a lovely ache it produces now when time has turned and I sit in the drear of winter! There I was with the full suite of tools - the iPod, the netbook and the Kindle, reading, writing and music. How odd, it seems, that it was only so late in the week that that moment was recalled, as if all the days before were mere trompe l'oeil! That single view of gently pulsing water, that blue meridian time resonates, the time when I reclined under the firm yet gentle sun and looked out on the tropical fecundity. I recall the first day and how it felt like cheating but how by Monday or Tuesday it felt natural, it felt real and how by Wednesday or Thursday I felt oh so present. I recall the island-y drinks, only three of them given the expense and naturally now I wonder at my frugality. I recall the brazen displays of womanly flesh, of bare cups and flush feet and rim'd suits running to the sweet spots.