On June 12, 1824, John Constable sketched, in oils, squall clouds over Brighton beach. On June 13, 1871, Gerard Manley Hopkins saw a red rack of clouds floating away. On June 12, 1869, John Muir noted Cumuli rising to the eastward over the Merced River. “How well they harmonize with the upswelling rocks beneath them!”
The writer Annie Dillard locates something sacred in the human history of clouds, and it was with that in mind that I went back into the DTU archives to see what clouds I observed a year ago today.
As it turns out, far from contemplating clouds, on November 15, 2010 Anna and I were talking about food. Apple strudel, pumpkin pie, and while I’m on the topic let me say that caramelized butternut squash is now officially my new favorite snack.
As Anna mentioned in her post earlier today, after a little more than a year of tracking our emotional calendars, it’s time for this phase of the project to end. Anna, the more practical member of the team, wrote about ways DTU has changed her lifestyle. I have to confess that just this morning, after hearing predictions of heavy thunderstorms and flooding across Austin, I hopped on my bike and rode to campus – just like I would have last year. Lesson emphatically not learned.
Or maybe my morning bike ride perfectly reflects my DTU experience. It’s true that this project has documented the whole range of my emotional experience, from a wild post-book-writing trip to Ipswich to the anxious (and endless) anticipation of spring. But mostly, when I think about DTU, I am struck with a feeling of delight. I think about maple syrup-making and early crocuses, ridiculous chanukah songs and really, really good food.
As we come round to winter again, it seems like DTU has permanently embedded itself into my seasonal experience, giving emphasis to all its most delightful aspects. Now the arrival of hot summer weather will remind of the time that Anna and I gave up chocolate. Thanksgiving, on top of being about family and food, will be about Anna’s ridiculous proposal that we live-blog the whole thing. January snowstorms will come hand-in-hand with the requisite Dorchester.
It might not be as sacred as the contemplation of clouds. But when those clouds turn to rain, I’ll ditch my umbrella and take out my bike. As they say, it’s been a good ride.
Thanks for reading.
Weather: 63 degrees and lovely in Austin tonight.
Mood: 7 out of 10 on the “can’t get out of bed” to “jumping for joy” scale. Bittersweet.
I appreciate the Muir quote in there. He certainly had the DTU spirit deep in his bones.
Thanks for sharing the blog. Hope the next writing projects are as productively self-reflexive.
Thank you for reading Igor! & for appropriate use of the DTU acronym.
Unfortunately, the next writing project is more likely to be academic than self-reflexive. Look forward to large and dusty tomes of cultural theory, queer theory, and literary studies in the near future.
** to give credit: The cloud quotes all come from annie dillard’s For the Time Being.
Thanks for writing, Hannah (and Anna). Please do let us know when you again find enough time for sharing some non-academic writings…
thanks for reading sascha. hope you’re having fun in the forest.
Hannah, it’s been quite a ride. Thanks for indulging this little experiment. I couldn’t have (and wouldn’t have) done it without you.
I’d also like to note that I’ve been hitting up marthastewart.com for squash recipes lately, so I’ll add that dish to my list. See, I actually cook now!
If this blog leads to nothing but better eating I’ll consider it a success.
I have so very much enjoyed writing with you!
I already miss Ditch the Umbrella. Reading it has been a wonderful treat for your most avid fan.
thank you! of course you can always just give a call if you want an update!