Weather, Or Not

A while ago I went outside and could have sworn I smelled strawberry jam. When I've had these experiences with phantom scents in the past, I've always wondered if it was an early sign of a brain tumor. A few weeks ago, I read an article in the paper which said that phantom odors were sometimes an indication of a propensity to develop schizophrenia. Hooray! Now I have a choice of illnesses with which to feed my hypochondria! I don't have real hypochondria, of course. It's all in my head.

I get the feeling that I've been rather dull of late. I don't know why that is. I'm pretty sure, though, that I wouldn't be reading this stuff if I weren't me. But I know that eventually something will happen to get my brain working again (schizophrenia, perhaps) and then I will become less dull once again. In the meantime, I find myself continuing to be unfocused and forgetful. For example, I have a Stephane Mallarme prose poem I've been intending to post in greatpoets, but I keep getting distracted and forgetting until it's too late to post something it would take that long to type. I'd use the LJ to-do list feature to remind me, but I keep forgetting that, too.

Wednesday is typically one of my busy days, and I have a lot to catch up on due to Tuesday having been unexpectedly busy, as well. If the weather remains mild, I'm going to try to find a few moments for digging in the ground a bit to get rid of some defunct plants and get ready to stick some new ones in. All last year's pansy plants have died, and those are among the favorite snacks of the deer. Must get some more. For the deer, running out of pansies is probably like running out of honey roasted peanuts is for me. Except the deer probably don't get as grumpy as I do when my snacks run out.

I get grumpy from not enough sleep, too. I will sleep now.

The sunlight of the last few days was replaced this afternoon by a more characteristic winter gray. A few sprinkles spread dark dots across the pavements, but full rain failed to arrive. I was cheered by the soft light and the prospect that rain might fall later tonight. It was also nice to hear how active the birds were today. There was much chirping in the cool air. In fact, I was awakened by the sound of acorn woodpeckers. It struck me that their vocalizations are much like those of frogs, but intermittent rather than sustained, as the birds do not gather in numbers as great as do frogs. In any case, they are a far more pleasant way to wake than the harsh sound of an alarm clock.

The light has now faded from the sky, and the moon being yet to rise and the stars concealed by the clouds, it is all dense, damp darkness except where lights shine from the houses. No wind stirs, and the rain holds back, creating a sense of expectancy. I await the first whispers of the pines in freshening breeze which will foretell the arrival of the storm. It may not come. Instead, the clouds may merely settle on the land as fog. Even better. The valley gets most of the fog, and I'd enjoy having it visit the mountains for a change. I enjoy the smell of it, and I like to hear the condensation dripping from the trees.