just a story

I have lived in two valleys. The Merrimack Valley up there in Lowell, Massachusetts by the New Hampshire border, and the Willamette Valley, when I lived in Portland, Oregon. While I have no evidence of this, my mind tells me I lived in Lowell for 10 years. It’s hard to imagine that’s true, but I seem to know it. There’s more clarity with Portland – I lived there 12 years.

Yesterday dropped 16.6 inches of snow in Lowell. It rained off and on in Portland. Here in San Diego it was quite lovely, sunny and blue and green, though it was 58 in the apartment this morning, making me want to hop out of the shower and do an extended, crazed, towel-waving version of the Watusi to, hopefully, warm up a bit. In Lowell, 58 would feel balmy. In Portland, not too bad at all. Like The Pixies sang, “It’s educational.”

I’m not sure where this particular waking to valleys in which I’ve lived and weather and stuff came from this Monday. It’s way less esoteric from how I feel while typing this. I guess it’s just a story.