Friday, March 6, 2009

Cape Escape

I miss New England, and one of the aspects I miss most is central to this "Escape": the silence. At certain times in fall and spring, there's this sharp, clear coldness to the air that doesn't so much muffle conversations or shuffling over leaves but distinguishes them, sets them apart so as to draw attention to what exceptions they are. Here, quiet is like a blanket, the siesta stillness that settles over the Marigny in the afternoon, the spaces between the shade of the live oaks on my street. There, it's like glass, not opaque, barely present, but hard and impenetrable nonetheless.