Jennifer A. Chin (cswallow) wrote,
Jennifer A. Chin
cswallow

 The trees are talking today - long, sonorous calls. When I walk out the door in the morning, I find they have been shedding their limbs, the detritus of their camouflage lying like broken tissue on the gravel drive.

It rained all day on Sunday, but then night drew in and the sky cleared, smooth as the skin of a mango. A brisk wind drove the storm clouds before it, and they roiled away across the horizon, black and restless.

I approach the the term's end now. Before me yawns the chasm of winter break and a month without school. Everyone looks at me strangely when I wish for more weeks of school. I checked the weather in California. Showers and rain for the next ten days. I've been so excited to go home, and now for some reason I can't bring myself to leave. But, I know I will be busy - the studying doesn't end when the term does. I have 11 chapters of Chinese characters to learn, summer proposals to write, and many books to read (for my career, and for fun).  

Sometimes I wish I was a tree, that I could just drop the thing that was sucking up too much energy and not giving anything back. That I could stand in the cold wind, and sing. 

 
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