Friday, October 11, 2013

Indian summer on the Gulf of Finland

The belated Indian summer: About a hundred of us from HSE are here, an hour away from St Petersburg, 10 minutes away from the Gulf of Finland.

I walk through a park; it looks as if a giant child threw giant yellow confetti all over the place. The groundskeepers swipe them into small bunches; a kind old tractor purrs and slowly pulls a cart full of the yellow. Someone’s feet right below me – oh, wait those are mine – make little yellow waves – sheesh, sheesh, sheesh, sheesh. Someone’s head regurgitates and chews over remnants of past and future conversations. Even though it is my head, I am not really in it. I left for a minute; will be back any time.

I float in mid-air among the dark trees, and their yellow foliage; I dash out into the sea, and come back into the park. I am the sun, I am the pale northern light, I am the mercury play in the sea just below the sun. Mine is the smell of leaves and that mysterious hint of burning. I inhale the entire sky and it fills my mouth and my lungs, bursting out. Cars swoosh by on my back, people crawl on my arms like harmless ants. Amen.

This is the Indian summer of 2013 on the Gulf of Finland. The minutes submitted respectfully by yours truly.

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