November 24th, 2004

munkacsy_parc_monceau

Lately

After moonset, the bright stars grow brighter, and the lesser stars emerge to join them. The dimming softens the landscape, all the forest sinking into shadow, all the hard-edged, moonlit fragments of houses vanishing. Faint rustling sounds break the quiet as a dry leaf here or there is sent scuttling along the street by vague breezes. For the most part, that stillness prevails which day seldom provides, but is a gift of late nights, when all the town has settled, and before the earliest risers have stirred from sleep. They all have their blankets, and I have the spangled sky.

I hear the car pass along a nearby street. The sound fades, then returns, grows louder, and finally the headlights rake the corner house. Flung papers trigger motion sensing lights, and bits of the built street emerge as the dim stars lately did. The car passes up the block, then back down, leaving a partly illuminated world in its wake. After a moment, the lights go out, one by one, and the sound of the car diminishes once more, then is gone. Night is restored to me. But there, lying on driveways, unseen, I sense those newspapers, waiting to be picked up, waiting to reveal the world my small world inhabits. I leave my own copy lie there, and watch Orion lean toward the horizon as he races away from the approaching sun.
laszlo moholy-nagy_chx

Spinning

Waking early again (this alternating of sleeping ten hours then sleeping five hours the next day is beginning to make me fell like a gyroscope which becomes unstable just before it stops and falls over), I took advantage of the afternoon to get my head shorn. About a pound and a half of hair came off, and I am now spiky once again. I also had time for a big leaf-bonfire in the back yard. The leaves were all dry and crackly and so made very little smoke. There were no marshmallows to toast, though.

With the early onset of cold weather, I have taken to wearing a knit cap while I sleep. It isn't a proper night cap, but it's the best substitute I have available. I'm sure that my Canadian ancestors would be proud of me, with hose on my head. One advantage of it is that I can pull it down over my eyes to block out some of the light. The main advantage is that I need not chip blocks of ice from my scalp on waking.

Evening provided us with a delightfully lurid sunset. At first, there were bands of lavender and pink across the entire western horizon, and then a concentration of intense, deep pink which soon turned luminous tangerine, in the southwest. Sunsets such as this are almost enough to tempt me to drop acid, in hopes that I can find out what they taste like. I bet they'd smell good, too.

The most disturbing thing I've heard on a television commercial in a long time; "The cheese comes from real cows, the eggs come from real chickens, and the sausage comes from Jimmy Dean." Ewwwww!