rejectomorph (flying_blind) wrote,


Up the street, the hidden porch light of a house is illuminating the bare twigs of an oak, making them seem like a puff of smoke in the rainy night.

The branches of the ponderosas droop heavily with the rain.

Now that the apple trees in the orchard have lost most of their leaves, I can see the lights of a house on the next street.

One of the cats is on the back porch, watching the night. The other is curled sleeping behind my chair.

I hear the water dripping from the eaves and the low rumble of air in the ductwork.

There will be things to do today.

I take refuge in the commonplace and in the things of the world.

Now, I am wondering how long my denial of impending disaster can be sustained.

  • Reset Twenty-One, Day Thirty-One

    Monday didn't get particularly smoky here, but by afternoon we could see the enormous pyrocumulus clouds hanging over the mountains. Reports say the…

  • Reset Twenty-One, Day Thirty

    Sunday morning I actually did manage to get to sleep before the sun came up, and then slept with only a couple of interruptions until about half past…

  • Reset Twenty-One, Day Twenty-Nine

    Saturday morning when I went to bed the light leaking around the window shades seemed dimmer than usual. I looked outside and the sky was overcast,…

  • Post a new comment


    default userpic

    Your reply will be screened

    Your IP address will be recorded 

    When you submit the form an invisible reCAPTCHA check will be performed.
    You must follow the Privacy Policy and Google Terms of use.