Monday, August 6, 2012


As expected, I awoke early, jet-lagged. Only instead of pushing myself back to sleep I went outside and stared at the purple Coast Mountains, their outline hard against a tea-stained milky blue sky. The few stars that remained were the five-point triangles we drew as kids. If you stared at them long enough, they twinkled.

Watching the sky open reminded me of the one I watched close three nights earlier, with Judy, Hadley + Maxwell and Olivia at Tempelhof Airport. While it would be unfair to describe Tempelhof as defunct, it is true that planes stopped landing there in the mid-2000s, replaced, as it were, by Rastafarian and gypsy campers, Ultimate enthusiasts, roller bladers, cyclists both amateur and professional -- a vast place, happy in its non-specificity, but open, like this morning's sky, to outcome.

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