WRITINGS FROM THE SCHOOL OF ENGLISH
Excerpt from a letter to Matt, half-remembered JENNA RUSSELL | VERMONT It seems God has given me a perfect day, after all that storm and bluster. Everything is green. The weather is so calm as to be unnoticeable, like moving in water, and there is a breeze that carries the sun. A fuzzy bumblebee hums near me. I see a yellow and gray bird land on a tree. Seconds slip by slowly, one tenth their usual pace. And it’s that alive kind of quiet. Life is here, thrumming underneath the dirt. It’s all life. Being in love with you has given an extra sweetness to my love for life. Sharpness, actually, now that I think about it— like tasting a green apple. Sharpness like putting on glasses for the first time and seeing the leaves again like you used to: crisp, outlined, fluttering. I like looking at a black sky full of dry lightning because I imagine looking at it with you. I see a mushroom and want you to see it. I want to bring you these things like a magpie collecting shiny items for a nest. Besides, we love the way life— the divine spark—comes out in each other. You like my fingernails. I like your handwriting. I can’t put the rest of the magnitude of it all down in words. But it’s not you I’ll be in love with forever. It’s not even me. The longest relationship I’ll ever have is with life. Please forgive the corny sentiment, but life and I are monogamous and we’re going all the way. Life brings me flowers—a lilac blossom I cupped in my hand and, feeling only a little silly, kissed, feeling last night’s rain run over my lips. Life asks me to be an adult, and to bring my full self to the table. Life asks me questions and expects answers. And lets me change my mind. Life kisses me. Life sings duets with me and dances with me across the wood floors. Life requests that I save the spider and put it outside. Life does the dishes with me—I wash, life dries. Participate, is all life asks. Be involved. And I will. I am here, barefoot in the green wild of life itself, and I intend to live in it, for as long as life will let me.
SUMMER 2022 | 37
