April 14th, 2004



The air's chill has silenced most of the crickets. Only one near the house emits slow chirps intermittently, and one more at some distance faintly answers. The wasted moon will not rise until just before dawn. What little light the town provides reflects from pale, low clouds which share the sky with those more distant which remain dark, like great bruises. I see the silhouette of the mutilated tree. It makes the street seem more cramped, as always. Strange, how this opening of a space should make things smaller.

It is not late, by my standards, but I am tired. Still, I could not sleep, even though my tasks are completed. It would be good if I could, as I suspect that the tree removal crew will arrive early with their saws and their wood chipper and their big trucks to finish their job, and then there will be no sleeping for me. It's a bad day ahead, I fear. Despite the clouds, I doubt that rain will come.

Despite my inability to sleep, I can find no activity able to hold my attention. I tried reading a swarm of words that swirled over a page. I tried to watch the disconnected images flashing across the television screen. They made no more sense than the buzz of sound that accompanied them. Music did no more than make me wish for silence, and the Internet . . . well, it was the Internet. Cobbling words together merely brings me the realization of how weak they can be. I suppose I'll be reduced to using my old standby, remembrance, and wander through the past, touching with airy thoughts the conjured images of what once was real, and will never be again.
caillebotte_man at his window

Cooler Still

It is another splendidly moody spring day, a rapid procession of bright light and cloudy shade, gusts of chilly wind rustling the new leaves which one moment sparkle with sun and the next are darkened by drifting clouds. Their sound is like that of the sea in a shell.

The cat's appointment with the vet is at nine o'clock tomorrow morning, the earliest we could get. There is a mobile vet service here which would have come to the house to deal with her, so she could have died in familiar surroundings and without an unpleasant final trip in the car, but they were booked up until April 20th. Yesterday and all last night she slept quietly in the back room, which is warmer than this room. This morning she came in here, but for the first time declined to get up onto the bed. She slept in a corner, with her face to the wall. I folded the bed up and slept on the floor, in case she wanted to curl up next to me, but she never did. This afternoon, she is restless and stumbles to a new spot every few minutes. I have given her some medication to calm her down, but I think it might be a difficult night. I wish we could have gotten an earlier appointment. In any case, it will be over early tomorrow, assuming she makes it through the night.

Nobody came to finish cutting down the tree today. I'm grateful for that, as this would have been a very bad day for that noise to be going on. I don't think they will come tomorrow, either, since rain is predicted, with the possibility of thunderstorms. It looks as though I will be burying this cat in the rain, as I did the last one a bit over three years ago.

I'll probably be leaving the computer off for the rest of the night, as I have to let the room stay warm and quiet for the cat. Nothing more to say now, anyway.