rejectomorph (flying_blind) wrote,

The Leaves are Greening the Heat

My Internet has been cutting out all afternoon. It's like whatever connects the world has a short in it. Some day it will just stop working altogether, perhaps while starting a fire. If I survive the fire maybe I'll miss the world when the Internet is gone, or maybe not. Maybe I'll be able to adjust to simply being here, with the trees and the cats and the relentless sun.

I've always been pretty good at living inside my own head, and I've gotten better at it as my head has gotten older and filled up with more stuff— more world, actually. I'm like a survivalist of thoughts, stashing away abstractions the way survivalists stash away dried food packets and bottles of water, ammunition and gold. But nobody is likely to come and try to take my thoughts at the point of a gun. The gunsters think my thoughts are worthless. They are probably right. But that won't stop me enjoying them.

I was lately enjoying lying on the beach fifty years ago, when I didn't even have any beer. I have beer now, which means I'm probably better off now— though of course I can't run out and dip my toes in the surf. I'd like to do that again. But given a choice between that and beer, I'll take the beer.

So I just took a look at the weather web site, and noticed that the graph which predicted we would reach a high of 93 at six o'clock now shows that it peaked at 91 at two o'clock, and has gone down to 87. And indeed on going outside I find that a southern breeze has sprung up, bringing slightly cooler air. That means we might reach our nocturnal low earlier, and thus the house will get cooler sooner too.

This breeze is doubly beneficial, as earlier the breeze was from the north and brought a strong smell of something burning. This was probably a fire about five miles northwest of here, which so far has consumed only about 14 acres and is already 25% contained, according to Cal Fire's web site. I hope the wind remains in the south all night. Not only will that keep my air fresh for breathing, but it will make it far less likely that I will be burnt to crisp tonight. Life is goodish, somewhat, and the mulberry tree is filling my window with soft green light.

Sunday Verse


by Adrian Mitchell

A smile says: Yes.
A heart says: Blood.
When the rain says: Drink.
The earth says: Mud.

The kangaroo says: Trampoline.
Giraffes say: Tree.
A bus says: Us.
While a car says: Me.

Lemon trees say: Lemons.
A jug says: Lemonade.
The villain says: You're wonderful.
The hero: I'm afraid.

The forest says: Hide and Seek.
The grass says: Green and Grow.
The railway says: Maybe.
The prison says: No.

The millionaire says: Take.
The beggar says: Give.
The soldier cries: Mother!
The baby sings: Live.

The river says: Come with me.
The moon says: Bless.
The stars say: Enjoy the light.
The sun says: Yes.

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