marcescence.

The urge to write something that’s just completely unserious has been plaguing me. 

I’ve got many papers to write, with varying lengths, and an article due tomorrow at 5 pm – as it is every Friday at 5. I’ve got things to read (for class) and things to scan (for work) and thoughts to think. And, what’s worse, I’ve got good weather to enjoy and no time to do it. 

I’ve been trying to think of what my next blog post will be about. The same-old, same-old blog about being stuck in thought and catching you all up on my life has been feeling redundant. What do you guys think? I guess I could open the floor, ask you to send in ideas. But shouldn’t I be more creative than that? I would like to think I am capable of it. Then again, all I do is try to be creative in some way, all the time. 

Like I said earlier, the weather is quite nice out. The past few days have been rather wonderful, with temperatures in the mid to high 50s, even breaking 60º the other day. There is definitely something within me that changes when Kentucky first begins to dip its toe into warm weather. Of course, it soon reverts right back to its dreary cold, but as for right now, I’m grabbing onto the warm weather and willing my brain to stay in it, even if I have to put more layers of clothing on my body. 

One of my favorite parts of the changing weather is when students go outside and hammock, or play soccer, or sit on the porch of the Student Center and drink coffee. Even now, I’m stuck inside working (which I love, don’t get me wrong) on the “worst” day of the week – windy with a high of 58º – and I can look outside and see a few guys shooting what seems to be a music video, a blue and green hammock catching the wind with nobody to weigh it down, and a group of guys in shorts and short-sleeves throwing a football. 

On the worst day of the week, there are people living. 

I think if I go further with that thought, it will begin to seem like every other blog, so I’ll refrain. Instead, I will still revert back to other blogs in a way, but I’ll try to do it a little differently. 

Yesterday, I was in my creative nonfiction class and because it was so nice, my professor had us all go outside for 20ish minutes and sit and observe something. We were supposed to go find a place on campus, alone, and stare. Take notes. Watch any movement. You get it. 

I chose a tree that still had its leaves, but I couldn’t tell you what kind of tree it was. The leaves were smaller, and had turned orange, and were dried out so that they began to curve into themselves, forming small cones. Instead of staring just at the leaves or the trunk or any of the brown branches, I laid on the ground and stared up at the branches, taking in the orange and brown of the tree, and also the blue and white of the sky that peeked through at me. 

Here are some of the observations I noted. Keep in mind that I had left my phone in the classroom (maybe not the safest nor smartest idea) and only had my analog watch on. 

Cold back, itchy neck, soft ground.

Leaves making noises like a rain stick as the wind runs through them.

Tree trunk, though relatively thin, is blocking the sun from my eyes. 

Bare feet, soft wind on my soles, fly lands on top of my right foot. It tickles.

Wind must be fast up where the clouds are; the clouds changing quickly. 

Small little airplane.

Body posture: laying on back, left ankle crossed over right, toes moving a little.

Earth might be a little wet but the grass itself is dry.

Wind, coupled with colder ground, makes me chilly.

Taste in my mouth is combination of the latte I left on my desk and the spicy Shin noodles from lunch.

Clouds keep moving; sometimes space between branches is blue, sometimes white. 

Checked watch. 1:15 p.m.

Hearing cars pass by, maybe a dog barking too?

A leaf blew away! The first.

Bring knees up, feet flat on ground; grass, leaves, and a twig under feet.

Sun has moved in sky; now in my eyes.

Watching clouds remind me of yesterday: genie bottle, dinosaur, dog, dragon. 

Turn head to the right, little moss peering at me through a bit of dead grass.

Sitting up now, criss-cross-apple-sauce. Warmer this way.

Watch face now on the inside of my wrist, reads 1:23 and 32 sec.

Itch to check phone, like my back and neck itch. Glad I left it inside.

Toes are cold. 

1890 HUGHES MEMORIAL AUDITORIUM 1929

PEACE. God’s peace. Suffering around me? Within me?

Sun is warming me so.

Fingers sweating. Right hand, holding the pen.

Need to go back in.

Wind catches unwashed heavy hair.

1:28.

I know that was a lot. That’s kind of the shortened version. I lay and I sat and I watched. I tasted and I heard and I felt and I smiled. I think if I saw myself through someone else’s eyes, I would be happy. I would wish I could do the same. That happens when I see someone sitting outside, either just enjoying the sun or reading or something. I want to do the same. There is something so wonderful about just sitting and thinking and being. 

When we got back inside, someone else noted that they too observed a tree that retained its leaves, even though we’re nearly to March. Our professor told us that the phenomenon (maybe the wrong word, sorry) was called “marcescence.” The dictionary’s definition is, “n., of leaves or fronds withering but remaining attached to the stem.” 

Now, the moment you’ve all been waiting for… how I am going to turn this into a classic entry of Abundant Thoughts and turn some small bit of this into a connector to my life. 

I think I, like a leaf, tend to participate in marcescence.

Now, like I never do, I’m going to leave it there, and ask if you think you do the same.

Thanks a ton for reading, as always. Enjoy the sun when you can, enjoy the fresh air, read the shapes that ink forms on the pages of a book. Create your own ink shapes. Listen to Clairo or Suki Waterhouse or Loretta Lynn. Exist!