Palms

I never thought it would be the plants.

the washingtonia filifera appeared in il giardino di finzi-contini, the italian movie i’m watching for class tomorrow and it made me homesick so.
the washingtonia filifera look just like the palms planted along the expressway my dad always took going home from church. i don’t know which expressway it is. somewhere along the CTE going into the SLE, there are these palm trees, all spiky and tall and i used to count them as we drove past.

we drove past them all the time, on the way home from church, on the way to rosyth, for three years i’d gaze at them in the blinding light of the 6.45am street lamps while my dad drove me to school. way before the era of rgs and overwork and sleep deprivation where i’d be dead to the world in the car. in those days, the morning air smelt… so. dewy and mistified, new and nostalgic, all at once. and the street lights and car lights, like a drive in the night because it was so early the sun had not yet come up. and then- all at once the street lamps would go off, when the night turned to day and their light dependent resistors kicked into action, whitewashing the world with a pale, drowsy pastel, just before the colours came alive. i always waited and watched for that moment, in my mind a shadowy, lanky, BFG type figure reaching out with a bony finger and flicking a switch to turn off the night.

i miss home. :(

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