Beautiful, Nathan. Just beautiful! Every single word, and every single space between the words, in this letter feels so precious that I imagine them, too, all encased in a bubble of translucent film (this imagery will stay with me forever). If this was an experiment, I sincerely hope it becomes a routine, as it turned out excellent! And I’m truly honored to be the recipient of your dedication. Such a noble gesture -- I have no words. Thank you, from the bottom of my heart!
Thank you, my friend. These are wondrously lovely words. I wanted to experiment with a letter of sorts, and that desire for experimentation is absolutely inspired by your own writing. :D
I agree, it is always the spaces in between the words Nathan writes that fill the mind and imagination... heaven and earth and all those places we don't yet know but so wish we did!
For such a short piece, there was a rather large amount of editing that went on in snipping out many words to create what I felt was an appropriate number (and feel) of spaces.
"... in time all things break and return to what was or was not, and you would have said that it was OK" Those three words, "or was not" truly elevate this poignant piece, Nathan. They make us pause, decipher, and consider what it means to us personally. Just lovely. I, too, am made melancholy by the new year, no matter how hopeful I try to be.
Thank you, Sharron. This was one of those times when I had the sentence and I read the sentence and then I realised that it was lacking and suddenly what I felt were the correct words were added all by themselves.
"I willed it never to pop, to never break its precious membrane, its opalescent curve with its faint glimmer of pearl." Beautiful imagery, Nathan. I have known moments like that and the futility of trying to preserve or recreate them. On a lighter note, if the bubble kept out the flies, my wife would never let it go. She hates bugs and is a mosquito magnet.
Beautiful Nathan. I read this as a conversation with oneself. The part who understands the impermanence of all things and the other part who believes love can transcend endings. Both, necessary parts to a life lived wholly and fully.
And such a beautiful line. Willows were always my favorite growing up.
“The willows, you said, are not trees but the heads of angels that dance upon Earth’s thin crust. I smiled, letting my mind wander to those shores that only your imagination could conjure as the moon slid slowly between the stars.”
“The willows, you said, are not trees but the heads of angels that dance upon Earth’s thin crust. I smiled, letting my mind wander to those shores that only your imagination could conjure as the moon slid slowly between the stars”. I’m with Susie M. , I love this, though she laments she did not write it, we all know she has set to words all the rhythms that run wildly around it. Here in VT, the “heads of angels” leafless in the winter, are spun in gold , sprinkled with snowflakes. Truly a sight to behold.
“ My mind pulled and swayed into a place of imagination and emotion.”
I think it is possible that melancholy is a fluid alchemy that has the unique ability to surface words and imagery from unexplored places of the heart.
Ah, Vermont (I had to Google, I'm not good with state abbreviations) has always looked so gorgeous in pictures, especially in autumnal colours.
"I think it is possible that melancholy is a fluid alchemy that has the unique ability to surface words and imagery from unexplored places of the heart." -- this is divine, Lor.
Nathan even when tinged with melancholy you writing is warm. Always that touch of mystery and romance I love so much, and this "The willows, you said, are not trees but the heads of angels that dance upon Earth’s thin crust." I wish I'd written that line - damn it I have a willow that does just that dance! Beautiful!
Sending wishes and hopes for a very happy new set of days to you! x
An excellent evocation of the feeling of realising that one is experiencing a perfect, but impermanent moment. But X— is right, at least the moment happened.
It certainly stirred a couple of similar memories for me. Thank you… sort of!
But seriously, yes, this is perhaps one of those pieces that can be interpreted in many ways and self-personalises to the reader. Or something. (I have no idea what I'm talking about.)
When I saw this new piece from you I suddenly remembered that last night I dreamt that you published a new story and I was writing a comment in my sleep… 🤣
Beautiful, Nathan. Just beautiful! Every single word, and every single space between the words, in this letter feels so precious that I imagine them, too, all encased in a bubble of translucent film (this imagery will stay with me forever). If this was an experiment, I sincerely hope it becomes a routine, as it turned out excellent! And I’m truly honored to be the recipient of your dedication. Such a noble gesture -- I have no words. Thank you, from the bottom of my heart!
Thank you, my friend. These are wondrously lovely words. I wanted to experiment with a letter of sorts, and that desire for experimentation is absolutely inspired by your own writing. :D
I agree, it is always the spaces in between the words Nathan writes that fill the mind and imagination... heaven and earth and all those places we don't yet know but so wish we did!
🙏
For such a short piece, there was a rather large amount of editing that went on in snipping out many words to create what I felt was an appropriate number (and feel) of spaces.
That last sentence 💜
<3
Thanks, Kate.
"... in time all things break and return to what was or was not, and you would have said that it was OK" Those three words, "or was not" truly elevate this poignant piece, Nathan. They make us pause, decipher, and consider what it means to us personally. Just lovely. I, too, am made melancholy by the new year, no matter how hopeful I try to be.
Thank you, Sharron. This was one of those times when I had the sentence and I read the sentence and then I realised that it was lacking and suddenly what I felt were the correct words were added all by themselves.
Oh, I know that feeling well! Sometimes we just need the one perfect word. We know it when we hear it.
Sharron, I noticed “or was not” too. I love when something sparse adds so much— here, a melancholic tone, a question.
"I willed it never to pop, to never break its precious membrane, its opalescent curve with its faint glimmer of pearl." Beautiful imagery, Nathan. I have known moments like that and the futility of trying to preserve or recreate them. On a lighter note, if the bubble kept out the flies, my wife would never let it go. She hates bugs and is a mosquito magnet.
Thanks K.C. Lovely comment. Really appreciate you reading.
Wonderful, my friend. Doubly so to feast my eyes on such beatific prose upon my return.
Thanks so much. 😊
So lovely, Nathan! Visually, the angels heads remind me of Robin Williams as the King of the Moon in "The Adventures of Baron Munschausen.
I've never seen that!! Just Googled and had a look. 😄😁
OMG it’s wonderful!!!
Your prose in these little sips you give us at irregular intervals is so lovely and moving. Here’s to many more in the coming year.
Thanks so much, Ben. I do really enjoy these little random outings.
Here's to 2025 and all the stories for both of us. ;)
I love the images here, Nathan. And the tone, both melancholic and tender, a bit of beauty, a bit of loss. The letter format, wonderful.
Thanks, Holly. That's lovely to hear.
We sat by the river
as the sun was setting
over
the western hills
and I told you
of the music that was
caught
in my ear.
.
O those time bubbles. . . we all try to save them.
Love the formatting, Ann. 🤗
such a poetic piece of writing Nathan!
Thank you so much, Ann. :D
"The willows, you said, are not trees but the heads of angels that dance upon Earth’s thin crust." That's lovely.
Thanks Stephanie!
Beautiful Nathan. I read this as a conversation with oneself. The part who understands the impermanence of all things and the other part who believes love can transcend endings. Both, necessary parts to a life lived wholly and fully.
And such a beautiful line. Willows were always my favorite growing up.
“The willows, you said, are not trees but the heads of angels that dance upon Earth’s thin crust. I smiled, letting my mind wander to those shores that only your imagination could conjure as the moon slid slowly between the stars.”
This is such a great interpretation, Kimberly. Thank you for including this in the comments. 🤗
“The willows, you said, are not trees but the heads of angels that dance upon Earth’s thin crust. I smiled, letting my mind wander to those shores that only your imagination could conjure as the moon slid slowly between the stars”. I’m with Susie M. , I love this, though she laments she did not write it, we all know she has set to words all the rhythms that run wildly around it. Here in VT, the “heads of angels” leafless in the winter, are spun in gold , sprinkled with snowflakes. Truly a sight to behold.
“ My mind pulled and swayed into a place of imagination and emotion.”
I think it is possible that melancholy is a fluid alchemy that has the unique ability to surface words and imagery from unexplored places of the heart.
All of this is beautiful , Nathan.
Ah, Vermont (I had to Google, I'm not good with state abbreviations) has always looked so gorgeous in pictures, especially in autumnal colours.
"I think it is possible that melancholy is a fluid alchemy that has the unique ability to surface words and imagery from unexplored places of the heart." -- this is divine, Lor.
Thanks , Nathan. I guess , while you’re in the mood, you may as well use it.
Nathan even when tinged with melancholy you writing is warm. Always that touch of mystery and romance I love so much, and this "The willows, you said, are not trees but the heads of angels that dance upon Earth’s thin crust." I wish I'd written that line - damn it I have a willow that does just that dance! Beautiful!
Sending wishes and hopes for a very happy new set of days to you! x
Thanks so much, Susie. Sending many warm wishes in return! x
Nathan, thanks. I know you've no idea what my reason is, but thanks, man.
🙏
This means a lot, even though I don’t know your reason.
An excellent evocation of the feeling of realising that one is experiencing a perfect, but impermanent moment. But X— is right, at least the moment happened.
It certainly stirred a couple of similar memories for me. Thank you… sort of!
Thank you for reading (I hope...)
But seriously, yes, this is perhaps one of those pieces that can be interpreted in many ways and self-personalises to the reader. Or something. (I have no idea what I'm talking about.)
🤣
I think you do know what you are talking about, which is why the piece works!
It is great format. Silvio’s letters are excellent, as you say.
I wonder who X— is… Xena the Warrior Princess?
Almost certainly...
She is my one weakness. My Achilles' heel.
When I saw this new piece from you I suddenly remembered that last night I dreamt that you published a new story and I was writing a comment in my sleep… 🤣
Premonition!! 😄