rejectomorph (flying_blind) wrote,

Out of Focus

What am I doing with my time? A big chunk of today got swallowed by the Internet, the mind's potato chips. Though I managed to get a few items from Safeway, rid the apartment of the accumulated recycling, and do some general tidying, in retrospect the day seems wasted. Part of my irritation probably comes from the fact that my ingrown toenail has started bothering me again, after a few weeks of relative quiescence. It has forced me to spend more time sitting, and when I sit I'm an easy target for the computer. Oddly, I barely remember anything I saw on the Internet today. Maybe I ought to have read a book instead.

I did look at a lot of pictures of rescued and sighted cats, but they were mostly cats I've seen before. Few new cats have been added to the large database for the last few days, so I went back over some of the old postings. I didn't expect to find anything I'd overlooked, but one never knows. Though in this case I apparently did know, as there was nothing.

It is remarkable how much green has already come into the few trees I can see from my back yard. The bush along the fence is full of green buds, and several small, white flowers have already bloomed. It's probably going to be quite a display once most of them start opening. The next few days will not be a good time for that, though, as more rain is expected, and Wednesday and Thursday could both bring thunderstorms. In fact the long range forecast is predicting an unusually wet early spring, with rain possible almost every day through the first week of April, so I hope the flowers on that bush are good at tolerating repeated soakings. I'm not, myself.

Again I've got the feeling that there was something else I wanted to say, but I just can't remember what it was. I should probably go eat something, as I got so distracted by the Internet tonight that I failed to fix any dinner. My blood sugar must be very low, and my body is apt to start devouring my brain, its least-used part, to keep the rest of itself alive. But first I must do this, of course:

Sunday Verse

The Moor

by R. S. Thomas

It was like a church to me.
I entered it on soft foot.
Breath held like a cap in the hand.
It was quiet.
What God was there made himself felt,
Not listened to, in clean colours
That brought a moistening of the eye,
In movement of the wind over grass.

There were no prayers said. But stillness
Of the heart's passions — that was praise
Enough; and the mind's cession
Of its kingdom. I walked on,
Simple and poor, while the air crumbled
And broke on me generously as bread.


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