Livinghigh: Picture this
Thursday, April 14, 2005
Livinghigh was here at 2:53 PM /



Picture this

The picture on my desktop calendar shows an amazingly orange umbrella. You can see the sun's rays glinting through the top of the umbrella. It's a harsh glare, something that you would want to be shielded from. The rest of the umbrella is in varying shades of orange, red and ochre. Spoke by spoke, it's like a huge baked orange pie dissected for future consumption. There's a part that looks particularly well toasted and I can almost imagine the crust flaking off, I can imagine the gooey orange marmalade filling inside slithering out.

There's a book, hardcover, well-thumbed out pages, and a bottle of Chardonnay and a glass below the umbrella, on a checkered rug on the grass. It's a picnic that I would love to be in. I can't see the sky in the picture, but I can imagine it would be a bright, beautifil blue. It seems strange, though, to think of a beautiful blue sky with a harsh steel sun, so I must conjure up some clouds as well. It's necessary to have some fluffy and some not, some cream with a glint of gold, some ivory with a lining of steel-silver. And I would rest my head on that big fat book, under the orange umbrella, and close my eyes.

The Chardonnay would keep me awake, though. It would keep me buzzed slightly. So I would lie there, eyes closed, lips curved in a smile, and I would think of the sweet nothings I've been told in my ear, and the sweet everythings I've whispered in fits and starts. I may chortle softly. I may feel the wine's bittersweet tanginess still at the back of my throat, and I would smile at the feeling of being curled up in a corner of someone else's yard, under a big orange umbrella, with the shade atop my head, and Chardonnay in my dreams.


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