December 7th, 2004

laszlo moholy-nagy_chx

Howl

Wind so persistent and so loud that it conceals the sound of the rain. Rain so near being ice that it makes the cold air seem almost mild. The cat is curled behind the drapes, near the heater vent. The furnace goes on and the drape billows out, trapping the heat. Kitties like to be warm. I worry about the raccoons, though, and the deer and other creatures in the woods and fields. Not willing to share my space, they must huddle under bushes, or in dense stands of trees, to avoid at least the greatest excesses of the wind. Even then, the chill rain must filter down and drip steadily on them. The beasts would likely prefer that snow with which I'd rather not deal. It looks as though I won't have to, for now. Despite the iciness of the rain, the temperature will rise a bit today, and the storm will continue to be merely wet. It would please me if the wind would cease its howling, though, even for a while. I'd like to listen to the water trickling. I'd like to know that the beasts of the night were not being assailed by the turbulent air.
caillebotte_man at his window

Brief Fog

Afternoon fell quiet, and the forest was wreathed in fog, the dripping trees appearing no more substantial than the dense mass of cloud from which they loomed. Had there been time, I'd have gone for a walk and maybe gotten lost. Such delight to be lost in fog. But the appointment, too, loomed, and I was forced to forego the pleasure of being invisible. The teeth were duly polished and poked and subjected to that intense little spray of water, like an old facade being stripped of its paint. The good news is that the teeth will continue to fulfill their assigned function, and I need not be reduced to subsisting on a diet of gruel. Crunch, crunch, crunch.

But, by the time the procedure was complete, darkness was falling and the rain had returned, the clouds having once again ascended to the heights from which they had but briefly settled. Fogs seldom last long here. Someday, I would like to live in a place where fogs last for days, and I can wander for miles through a gray world of muffled sound and limited vision, taking in each small space as it opens, as though peering at a series of miniatures wrought with simple yet subtle detail.