rejectomorph (flying_blind) wrote,

Last Night

By the early light this morning, I saw that only eight pansies were left in the bed along the driveway. The deer must have been browsing here. I didn't see them, but I did see a pair of bold raccoons. Although I was standing on the porch, shining a flashlight at them (the blazing amber of thier eyes!), they insisted on exploring the entire front yard. One of my cats was on the porch with me, and she watched every move the raccoons made. They came within about ten feet of us before deciding to waddle off to examine the neighbors yard. It was trash night, so they undoubtedly had some success in their hunt.

The high pressure which now bakes the days shifts eastward a bit at night and sends a river of warm air flowing down the mountains. This air feels thick, even though it is dry. I picture the owls and bats and nighthawks swimming in its upper currents. A few gardenias cling to life among the withered brown blossoms, and add their scent to that of the overheated pines. Starlight ripples across the surface of the sky. I feel pliable, as though I might suddenly distort, like one of Dali's watches. These nights, I need not sleep to have strange dreams.

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