The wind is blowing fiercely again tonight. Is that Colin Craven crying? Or Heathcliff wailing for revenge on the moor? Lucy came over to watch the first half of the 2009 Wuthering Heights with me on tuesday. When I first saw it I knew there was only one other person who would love this maniacally entrancing villain as much I was. And of course she did! I still haven’t watched the second half because I know it doesn’t end well. Watching it, being inside the dreary world before Spring with Mary Lennox, and being all alone has me trapped in a misty Edwardian spell.
My mind plays tricks on me at night. While the boys were gone I thought I heard Oliver whimpering. But it was only a neighbor dog howling behind the fence. Why oh why did I have to get a sex offender notice in the mail the week Beau left for Spain? Every shadow turns into a gothic talisman of danger, every reflection a heart pumping burst of fright.
All of this rain is getting to me, I think. Sharon described it prettily in her last post, “it is a night for the rain. And everything will bathe in silver.”
Tonight I am imagining myself on a white pony, wandering through heather shrouded in a low fog, and missing my lost true love.
I miss Beau’s face.
**The family tree is from About Today, here. The girl in the white dress with the pony is from shopruche.com. (from their bridal look book that I’m currently in love with). The girl in the red dress is from the 2009 Wuthering Heights. Several are from the 1993 The Secret Garden. The couple at the very top is from the 1939 Wuthering Heights with Laurence Olivier (love him). The collage was quickly put together with google images. The only image that’s mine is Beau. If an image belongs to you let me know and I’ll credit you!