February 19, 2016
Summer's lease has yet to kick in. A friend wrote to me an actual letter long ago. She said that her grandfather had said that when someone starts to talk about the weather in a letter that it's time to just stop writing. I think of her often and with much love. We met at Greystone Mansion when, for one year, the Summer Solstice Dulcimer Festival was held there. Summer's Lease was cooking like anything. Her hair was to the middle of her back. She was shy. She was talented. She was married.
And, that's that.
The woman I met when looking for a writer to help me write the movie script about a murder in the northern plains of Colorado never discusses the weather. Her birthday is coming up and in the past nineteen years, I have never remembered the exact date. She is one of those mysterious women whom Leonard Cohen must have known intimately when he wrote SUZANNE. Depending on your age and personal tastes, you either hear Leonard doing his own beautiful song.. or Judy Collins. (Now I can hear Judy singing Desperado!) I love both renditions. Happy Birthday, mystery woman. I love you. You will never sink beneath my wisdom like a stone.
February 19, 2016
michaelsheehan
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