Turning over old leaves

Apparently, people do read this blog, because I had a complaint recently that I hadn't posted lately! Imagine that. There's so much going on - I'm in the middle of a bunch of projects at school, it's a big week at work, and I had two fabulous weekends in a row (my mom came to visit; I went to Amherst).

So I checked out Fun Home by Alison Bechdel (see previous post), and read it in two sittings. It was really good; its subtitle is "a tragicomic," which is accurate. It's literary, layered, and moving. And there's nothing in it that you wouldn't find in your standard Judy Blume or Francesca Lia Block book. For goodness' sake.

When I was in Amherst I went with a friend to the Quabbin Reservoir. For those of you who don't know, the Quabbin, which supplies Boston with its drinking water, was created by evacuating, "discontinuing," and flooding four towns in this valley, which formed a natural dam on three sides, and just needed the fourth one to be blocked. It's a beautiful but melancholy place; you can feel the spirit of things that once were, and will no longer exist again.

We tried to catch leaves as they were torn from the trees by the strong wind, saying that if we did, we'd get a wish. My friend caught one, but I couldn't chase one down - they're pretty damn elusive. The other morning, however, as I walked to class, I felt something run into my side. I looked down, and there was a dead leaf sticking to my jacket. I'm still thinking about what to wish for.

This is the Enfield Lookout (I think). Photo (c) Sam Masinter, from Amherst Magazine.