October 26th, 2005



It's been raining for several hours, from light sprinkles to steady drizzle. Yesterday had a decidedly silvery look to it, and a sunset of mauve and pink clouds, and the few stars were soon obscured, so I wasn't surprised at the arrival of rain.

All trace of Monday's mildness has vanished. A layer of cold air now skulks along the floor when the heater cycles off, causing my feet to complain about not being allowed up on the chair with the rest of me. I can't use the keyboard when my feet are up. My legs don't fit under the desk when they are bent that way. The feet will have to get along as best they are able.

I might give them a break now and then during the coming cold months, by letting them recline on the couch while I watch something on television. TCM is showing a lot of Hitchcock movies this week. If the feet are patient, they might get a nice long nap while I watch "The Birds."

These are awfully short paragraphs, but then I've been awfully short of sleep for the last few days, and paragraphs, as everyone knows, are closely related to sleep. I'll try to do something about that. With luck, by tonight my paragraphs will be getting longer once again.
caillebotte_man at his window


The whole day gray and rainy, I kept waking up to listen to it. The first time I woke up, I squinted at the clock and though it said 3:45, but after I managed to barely drag myself out of bed, I realized that it was only 9:15. I need a clock with bigger hands. In fact, I've long wanted a giant clock on my ceiling, with hands three or four feet long, so I don't have to sit up or put on glasses to see what time it is.

But each time I woke, the soft sound of rain quickly put me back to sleep. It's been a long time since we've had a rain loud enough to do that. It's been a cold rain, too, and I expect the foliage to accelerate its change of color. The oaks will go from green and brown to gold and brown, and the dogwoods from deep red to bright red. The maples are already vivid, and there is more yellow on the mulberry each day. Only the walnut remains entirely green.

I finally woke up for good when the acorn woodpeckers decided to raise a commotion in my yard. They have enjoyed the first good rain of the year as much as I have, and spent the late afternoon flying about and chattering at one another. The rain has now stopped, but everything is damp, and I still hear the trees dripping. Darkness has concealed the liquid beads which decorated the leaves and the few late flowers which are still blooming. If the sky clears, the night will grow very cold. It's time to dig out the winter coat.