September 6th, 2012


Maybe It's a Dream

My haywire schedule had me waking up while it was still dark today. I tried to get back to sleep, but failed, so I've had over an hour to watch the sky turn pale and the world grow more distinct. Now I'm listening to the birds wake up. I suspect them of being far more cheerful than myself.

The half moon is still bright, but is no longer brightening the clouds. They have appeared to turn darker as the sky has grown lighter. There aren't very many of them this morning, but they must have remained thick most of the night as the air is still much warmer than it would have been had the sky cleared early.

The morning smells damp, but I see no evidence that any rain has fallen. Neither do I smell any evidence of fires burning, so perhaps there was little or no lightning overnight.

Oh, interruptions. The cats had to be fed, and that led on to other things. They were happy to be fed early, but now they will be upset if their dinner isn't early, too. The cats don't realize that if I don't have a regular schedule they won't get one either.

Morning sunlight is catching the tops of the trees. I'm going to go back out and see the clouds again, now that they are bright once more.


The heat has taken on a different quality. This happens in late summer every year. The heat no longer feels like its coming from the sun, but instead seems to be coming directly from my skin. It feels like a sunburn feels, but I don't have a sunburn. I have no idea why this happens, or if it happens to anybody but me. It's as though I've stored up all the heat of July and August and now I'm radiating it back into the world. It doesn't really bother me that this happens, but if the day comes when I pick up my newspaper and it bursts into flames, well, then I'll start to worry.

Right now I'm more annoyed by the buzzing of the cicadas. It sounds as though my dead front lawn is full of them. It's a terribly distracting noise once I start listening to it. The odd thing is that I don't notice it for a long time, and then the cicadas will stop for a moment, and the brief hiatus draws my attention to the noise when it starts up again. That's when it starts driving me crazy. I want to go out and shout hey, you bugs, get off my lawn! But I suspect that I'm already considered the crazy old guy of the block, so I probably shouldn't indulge that fantasy. It would serve only to worsen my reputation, and I'm sure it wouldn't get rid of the cicadas anyway.