The one eclipse I remember seeing clearly was way back in the early 1980s, when I lived in suburban Los Angeles and the moon went into eclipse in the first half of the night. I walked along my block and saw quite a few neighbors out, either in their yards or walking like me, and it seemed quite festive, if quietly so. Nobody was out tonight in my corner of the mini-metropolis. I stood alone in my driveway looking at a dim, reddish blur among the leaves of a tree, surrounded by apartments with blind, unlit windows. I was a bit sad.
Now the sun is coming up, and too soon the roofers will be back, probably about the time I get very sleepy, and then I will fitfully doze, tossing and turning, through the first several hours of a day that will get up to 91 degrees. Joy will not be mine. It won't be for the roofers, wither working in that heat, with no shade at all. About the only thing for any of us to be thankful for is that it won't be quite as bad as the last two days of May and first two days of June will be, all of which are predicted to top 100 degrees, wit nights at or near 70. Air conditioner time.
One enjoyable event Tuesday afternoon was seeing my latest lizard in the back yard. It isn't Taylor, but perhaps one of Taylor's offspring, a little brownish creature who scampered about in a manner I will assume to be indicative of happiness. I haven't decided what to call this one, but it is fairly bold, or fairly stupid. It came within inches of my feet as I sat in the back yard, and seemed oblivious to its danger. It would have been easy enough for me to have missed noticing it at all, had it not attracted my attention when it stirred some dead flowers, and then I might well have trodden on it as I returned indoors. I'll have to remember to take care when I'm out there with my bad eyes. I remembered to water the plants before darkness fell, and have had the pleasure of smelling the consequent dampness every time I've gone out since. I hope the lizard enjoyed it too.
