After Four Full Years on Medium, It’s Time for a Break
I’ll bet you won’t notice I’m away
My house lets me see into the past and also into the future.
In the morning, when I step onto the south-facing back porch, the wetness of the grass tells me how much it rained during the night. In winter, the shadows are white with frost, and I know instantly how cold it has been.
The house, trees, and fences soften the breeze. I see the clouds disappearing into the distance and feel the radiant heat of the southern sun.
I wouldn’t choose my walking apparel based on this sheltered information. My dog and I know better.
The view from the front of my house tells me about the future.
Weather spreads across the valley from the west. I can tell with uncanny accuracy when it is going to rain. I can see it coming.
Winds rustle, shake or bend the trees, clouds scud by on high or billow around the summits and birds circle lazily or congregate in the trees — all clues to what the day has in store.
I’m not fooled by a calm back garden.
With Medium, I don’t have a front-facing window. I can’t tell the future. I can only look back.