rejectomorph (flying_blind) wrote,


A rare phenomenon ended the day. The tail end of the departing storm streaked the western sky, and the setting sun turned all the clouds pink and then red and then lavender before the darkness drained it all away, but the marvelous thing was that the spectacle coincided with the arrival of a thin fog which softened and blurred with its drifting veils all that mass of vivid color. In all the years I've lived here I've only seen the sunset through drifting fog once before. I stood sharing the unexpected view with a pair of acorn woodpeckers who perched atop the utility pole and who watched quietly until the color was almost gone, and then danced and chattered for a moment before flying off to wherever they will spend the chilly night.

Speaking of birds and chilly nights, we had the four overgrown bushes in the front yard severely trimmed just a couple of weeks ago. Several birds had been spending the nights in them, and they continued to do so until the weather turned cold. They were probably terribly disappointed to have had their comfy, nocturnal perches stripped of their protective shield of dense foliage. I am now able to traverse the walkway without brushing against masses of leaves though, which convenience is even more desirable in wet weather, so score one for me against the fowl. Now watch me get crapped on.

  • Reset Forty, Day Forty-Four

    Saturday morning and afternoon I slept so much (though with more than a few interruptions) that I've felt no need for a nap since. I might be getting…

  • Reset Forty, Day Forty-Three

    My computer (or whoever uses it to spy on me) doesn't know where I am, so the weather report that Microsoft sends me might be from anywhere within a…

  • Reset Forty, Day Forty-Two

    A spam phone call sufficiently damaged my sleep Thursday a morning that I was forced to rise far too early. This led to an early evening collapse,…

  • 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.