rejectomorph (flying_blind) wrote,

Tangerine Moon

In October, farmers begin burning the stubble in the rice fields which dot the Sacramento valley. From the clear mountains, I can see the haze trapped below, gauzy and tinted with brown. When the moon sets through the haze, it is the color of a tangerine.

Today, the clouds returned after an absence of several days. Their pale shadows drifted across the landscape like premonitions, brightening the distance and casting the nearby into a more mysterious form of itself. To watch a cloud in sunlight, or sunlight through cloud, lends the sky a greater presence. I am always surprised to see a bit of dust and condensation create an impression of vast weight, and of weight freed from the restraint of gravity. Soon, there will be a day when that wight will be too much for the clouds to hold, and there will be rain. But not tonight, I think. Tonight, the waxing moon glides behind the clouds and makes them shine as though from within. The particles that so recently were stubble in the fields are now risen into the sky, to drift and wander until they fall as part of someone else's rain. I stand in the diffused moonlight and watch them pass.

Later tonight, I will go out to watch the moon set, and perhaps it will still be the color of a tangerine, out there over the valley where the smoke of today's field fires is gradually drifting up to become part of tomorrow's clouds.

  • Reset Seventeen, Day Eighteen

    Friday would be just a memory, if I remembered it. As I don't, I guess it's more like a myth. Maybe it happened, maybe it didn't, but whatever you…

  • Reset Seventeen, Day Seventeen

    Thursday turned out to not amount to much. I got a notice from the IRS that they had deposited my $600 stimulus check in my account, which actually…

  • Reset Seventeen, Day Sixteen

    No nap Wednesday evening, because I slept the middle of the day away and got up at half past two. I might actually get to sleep before five o'clock…

  • Post a new comment


    default userpic

    Your reply will be screened

    Your IP address will be recorded 

    When you submit the form an invisible reCAPTCHA check will be performed.
    You must follow the Privacy Policy and Google Terms of use.