rejectomorph (flying_blind) wrote,
rejectomorph
flying_blind

11x101

I didn't notice at the time, but my previous entry was number 1,111. This is a much more interesting number than 1000. These big, round multiples of ten have a dull, prudish metric quality about them. Multiples of eleven have energy and flair. I'm looking forward to my 1320th entry. That's an interesting number, too. It is evenly divisible by ten of the first twelve integers-- all but seven and nine, for those counting. It is also the number of feet in a quarter mile. (The English system of measurement has a grace and subtlety often unappreciated by the crude modern mind.) If a journal is a sort of journey, then it seems appropriate to note the distance traveled in the same measurement as would be that of a physical journey. So, I will no longer pay attention to those metric multiples, and count instead the rods and chains and furlongs and miles of this journal. When I reach 15,840 entries (evenly divisible by 11 of the first twelve integers), it will be a league of writing.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The persistent rain has washed away every trace of snow, even in the undergrowth of the forest. This afternoon, though the sky remained heavy with clouds, the rain ceased, and I went for a walk through the grey evening. Twilight seems to begin shortly after noon on days such as this, when the clouds are so thick that the position of the sun cannot be discerned from any bright spot among them. In fact, the brightest patch of clouds appeared in the east, hovering over the mountains, until very near sunset when, at last, a bright, horizontal line of gold emerged above the trees in the southwest. When I returned home, there were two acorn woodpeckers on the utility pole in front of my house. Their bright red crests looked quite festive against the deepening grey sky. After sunset, the clouds began to thin above, and a few stars appeared. Through the trees to the west, I could glimpse a few clouds which lingered with pale noctilucece. The clearing sky presages a cold night. The small drops of water which hang like miniature ornaments from the tips of bush leaves may freeze. If the clouds remain at bay, perhaps I will see those drops glitter with reflected light when the waning moon rises above the pines.
Subscribe
  • Post a new comment

    Error

    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.
  • 3 comments