June 21st, 2005

laszlo moholy-nagy_chx

That Day

I've had to leave the fan running in the window all night. The outdoor temperature has been at least ten degrees higher than it was Sunday night, and the indoor temperature is still downright toasty, even with the fan. I feel like I'm in one of those old cartoons in which the seasons change instantly, as denoted by leaves suddenly popping out of bare branches. Happy Summer Solstice. By the early light, I do see a promising bank of dark, rumpled clouds looming along the eastern horizon, but I doubt they'll come to a good end. The rising sun will soon boil them away, I'm sure. The Extremely Noisy BirdsTM appear to know that something has changed, too. A group of them have perched on various limbs of the mulberry tree, and are now engaged in manic chirping, like a bunch of organic little smoke detectors. The day is on fire, the day is on fire!

I have more placid company, as well. For several days, a tiny spider (about an eighth of an inch across) has been parked on the wall just below the window sill. It has no web that I can see, and as far as I know it hasn't budged from that spot in all this time. I don't mind it being there. I rather enjoy watching it not move. It's like having a small Buddhist ascetic monk meditating nearby, enrapt in a state of perfect serenity. I have no idea what the arachnid eats. Dust mites, perhaps? Of course, it might be dead, and me projecting my nirvanic fantasies on an empty spider husk. I don't want to poke at it to find out, though. I've grown accustomed to its presence, and wouldn't want to either scare it away (should it be living), or discover for certain that it has shuffled off this mortal coil and passed into what dreams might have come to the Danish Prince. I like my little spider buddy.

Almost sunrise now. If I read the signs aright, my brain will probably short circuit sometime this evening. In lieu of coherent thoughts, I will have iced tea. Maybe I'll have an hour or so of rationality late tonight. Maybe I'll babble mindlessly for the next several months. Summer is here. Whoopie.
bazille_summer scene


It seems increasingly likely that I shall survive the first day of summer with most of my cognitive abilities intact. I can now open the drapes that have covered my west-facing window, as the blinding sun of afternoon has settled among the trees, and emits no more than a pleasant and nicely screened golden glow as it nudges the horizon. Warm evening air is coaxing an abundance of perfume from the jasmine, and the open windows allow its sweetness to reach my nose. The birds, having arrayed themselves on various branches and utility wires to watch the sunset, are singing their last songs of the long day. Shades of green deepen as the sky grows dim, soothing eyes wearied by the hours of brilliance. The roses offer a few bright splashes of color as contrast to the gathering dusk. Soon, the low summer moon will appear, nearly full, and cast its soft light across woods and fields still lush from the late rains. It is an auspicious beginning to the new season.