rejectomorph (flying_blind) wrote,
rejectomorph
flying_blind

Unfinished

Lately, each day has been vacillating between autumnal and wintry. There are hours of clear sky, hours of scattered clouds, hours of heavy overcast without rain, and hours of drizzle. The leaves continue to drop from the trees, but the pines have already shed most of their dead, brown needles. By night, when there are thin clouds, the moon sometimes casts its light through one that contains ice crystals which act as prisms, and the moon will be surrounded by a cloudy halo in the vivid colors of the rainbow. Twice tonight, I have seen slow meteors trace a bright line across the stars. The Leonids will arrive in a few days. I hope that it is clear enough to see them.

The essay I began on the 11th continues to grow. I am only now reaching the part where I originally began it, before Sluggo crashed and lost it. I'd like to say that I'm now about half done with it, but I don't know. The thing might grow a new end as well as the new beginning. For some reason, I'm finding this piece more difficult to write than I have any of the other long posts I've done recently. Well, I won't predict when it will be ready to post. For all I know, the damned thing will turn into a novel, and I'll never finish. This has happened to me before. I'll try to keep it within reason, but there are no guarantees.

Now, for a few minutes of recreational mucking about the internet, before I must sleep. Large numbers of words are tiring. I want to go look at something entertaining.
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