April 2nd, 2005

caillebotte_the balcony

Saturday, For Me, Is Like Any Other Day

I thought I heard a fox bark a while ago, but I might have been mistaken. It might have been merely a small dog with a cold. If it was a fox, than it was the first I've heard in several years. This would be the time of year they'd most likely be wandering this far into town. This is when the younger foxes seek new territories of their own, and looking for mates. I remember that they used to whistle to one another, as well as making their distinctive, gravelly barks. I think the whistling is part of their mating ritual. There has been no whistling tonight. It probably was just a domestic dog.

The fan is back in the window, helping to keep the room cool with fresh night air. It isn't quite cool enough, though. Sluggo has done spontaneous reboots, and has shown me multiple blue screens. I'm beginning to think that maybe I ought to keep the computer with the monitor that would have to be Mickey Moused. At least (as far as I know, being that I've never set it up and booted it) it probably wouldn't be as utterly unreliable as the Slug. I do not relish the arrival of the hot weather. But one more brief respite at least may be in store. Rain is predicted for Sunday, though today is expected to be warm and sunny. Spring is a changeable time, and is apt to bring many swift reversals. Well... that's better than monotony.
munkacsy_parc_monceau

Due

It begins to smell like rain. Afternoon's overcast slowly thickened, the shadows growing less and less distinct, until they were gone. The evening sky was a painter's scumbled palette of blue-tinged shades of gray. Pine-scented wind arose, and the new mulberry leaves shivered. There will be no stars tonight, and the moon will not rise to light the clouds until late. By then, the rain will have begun, I'm sure. I'm listening for it now, but as yet there are only the varied notes of the wind, and the rattle of leaves. The purple sourgrass flowers have closed for the night, and the freshly blown lilies are dim white spots amid aspiring, black leaf-tips. Everything waits.