March 3rd, 2005

munkacsy_parc_monceau

Vague

As midnight passed, the half moon rose. It has remained low, trailing thin veils of cloud, partly concealing itself behind the pines to the south. Its wan light, dispersed by the vapors, allows the tress to cast only the most meager shadows, and the night is neither bright nor altogether dim. Only the silhouettes of the trees among which the moon drifts are truly dark. Contrast is otherwise diminished, the landscape softened, a visual counterpart to the whisper of the pines as they are brushed by the northern breeze. Earth's shadow on the moon is almost perpendicular now, as we near the equinox. The passage from winter to spring has been drawn out this year, but tonight it feels as though it is truly well underway. Few such moody nights as this remain for this season, I suspect. Too bad. I'd be happy to have dozens more.
bazille_summer scene

Sweat

I wondered why it was getting so hot in here. Somebody turned the thermostat up to 76o. Yow!

There was an overcast day, and now a partly cloudy night. This pattern might last for a while. It's better than the other way around. Sunny days build more heat, and cloudy nights hold it in. Even without clear sky, the day was surprisingly balmy. The small birds (sparrows of some sort, I believe) were once again out in vast numbers. If they didn't fly, had fur instead of feathers, had long, skinny tails, and squeaked instead of chirping, people would consider them pests and set traps for them. Lucky for them that they're cute.

The cherry tree is not dead. It is finally putting out a few blossoms, but very few. I might remember to start a new tree this year, by sticking a few seeds into pots. I have intended to do this for several years now, but keep forgetting. I have no doubt that the birds have dropped a few seeds here and there each year, but the resultant treelets have grown among weeds and lawn grass and, unrecognizable, have probably been mowed down or plucked out while yet tiny. Anything that grows from profligate nature's prolific seeds is prone to disaster. Oh, look at the unintentional alliteration.

It's still a bit warm for Sluggo, so I'd better let him nap before he has a fit.