May 26th, 2006


Through the Green Fuse

Roses are now exploding from the bushes in the back yard. Not literally, of course. Wouldn't it be interesting if they did, though? It would be like living in one of those old cartoons where such things were routine. You'd be standing by the rose bush, looking at the buds (which do possess a shape reminiscent of various ballistic objects), and suddenly there'd be a popping sound and a bud would explode into a rose, then more popping sounds and more roses, like fireworks going off, until the whole bush was covered in fresh blooms. That would be so much fun!

But, no, these are just ordinary roses, and their blossoming is but figuratively explosive. Still, the blossoms are noticeably growing in number every day. I expect perhaps half a dozen more to have opened by the time I wake up this afternoon, unless the day remains as gray as the morning now is. The flowers always bloom faster when the sun is bright.

Plants have a more congenial relationship with the sun than I do. I get along better with the clouds, the fog, and the overcast. This morning's overcast is particularly nice, prodded by deep green pines and enlivened by swift birds whose dark and fluttering shapes inscribe paths above the forest. The breeze is fresh and cool and smells of damp. It's too bad I have to sleep. I'd like to go for a walk and let my swinging cuffs gather dew from the tall field grasses.
laszlo moholy-nagy_chx

Cold Front


Afternoon had been dark for hours- so dark that the crickets began chirping at four o'clock. Inky clouds scudded rapidly, though at ground level the air was eerily still for along time. About six o'clock I heard the distant rumble, and within minutes, the rain began. The thunder grew louder and the flashes of lightning nearer and more frequent, until the sky was almost constantly alight and the rumbling unceasing. The windows rattled and the dark rooms flickered with light, while a downpour overflowed the rain gutters and cascaded into the flower beds, crushing the sourgrass and bending the camellia branches ground-ward. It was all quite splendid.

The storm lasted no more than half an hour and, before dusk fell, the birds who had scattered at the first drops returned to peck for a while at the softened lawns. No sunset could be seen, but the clouds are now breaking up, their tattered edges revealing pale evening sky that fills great rents in the vaporous darkness. It has grown quite chilly. Too bad the night will be moonless. The disintegrating clouds would be an enjoyable sight by moonlight.