| Light, For Now |
[Feb. 8th, 2015|07:44 pm]
rejectomorph
|
The rain was not so noisy today, and eased up by late afternoon. Now I can hear the frogs again, massaging the air with their soft voices. Sometimes they get competition from the stiff breezes that stir the pine trees, but mostly they have the night to themselves. There might be more rain tonight, and probably tomorrow, but the wind is the thing most likely to pick up. There might be thunder, too, which will not be so bad as long as the lightning keeps its distance. Tonight is the night English people murder one another on my television, and I don't want to lose my electricity before I get to see them.
There was hot apple pie for lunch today, which made the rain all the nicer. It's remarkable how well baked goods go with rain storms. And now I've got one thing less in my freezer to worry about if the power goes out. Dinner will eliminate another one of them, so next week I can think about stocking up again. But I'd better get cooking now. A camellia leaf brushing my window tells me that the wind is bestirring itself again, and I want to be done cooking should the house go dark.
Sunday Verse
Liu Ch'e
by Ezra Pund
The rustling of the silk is discontinued,
Dust drifts over the courtyard,
There is no sound of footfall, and the leaves
Scurry into heaps and lie still,
And she the rejoicer of the heart is beneath them:
A wet leaf that clings to the threshold.
|
|
