rejectomorph (flying_blind) wrote,


It has been a meteor-free night for me. By the time the moon set, the clouds had returned to obscure most of the sky. Nevertheless, I went out into the icy night and watched for a while. From time to time I would think that I had caught from the corner of my eye a flash, but it always turned out to be an ordinary star briefly unveiled by the swift flying clouds. At last I gave up, and came into the house to let my nose and ears and fingers regain feeling. They are now tingling with something other than delight. I must acquire gloves and earmuffs!

The early Sunday silence has engulfed the town. If anyone stirs within the houses, their sounds are held in by doors and windows tightly closed against the cold. It feels as though the place were nothing but ice, waiting for a thaw. What it will most likely get is clouds casting wintry shade. What I hope to get is sleep. But first, as usual...


by John Ashbery

Having transferred the one to the other
And living on the plain of insistent self-knowledge
Just outside the great city, I see many
Who come and go, and being myself involved in distant places

Ask how they adjust to
The light that rains on the traveler's back
And pushes out before him. It is always "the journey,"
And we are never sure if these are preparations
Or a welcome back to the old circle of stone posts

That was there before the first invention
And now seems a place of vines and muted shimmers
And sighing at noon
As opposed to

The terrain of stars, the robe
Of only that journey. You adjusted to all that
Over a long period of years. When we next set out
I had spent years in your company
And was now turning back, half amused, half afraid,

Having in any case left something important back home
Which I could not continue without,
An invention so simple I could never figure out
How they spent so many ages without discovering it.
I would have found it, altered it
To be my shape, probably in my own lifetime,
In a decade, in just a few years.

As I was about to post this entry, I heard a loud crack outside. Going to investigate, I then heard the sound of deer hooves retreating up the street. One of them must have stepped onto the icy mass of hail which still lies across most of my lawn, making the loud cracking sound. I didn't see them, of course, swallowed as they were in the darkness, but I am pleased that they were here.

  • Reset Sixteen, Day Forty-Six

    The rain had not begun when I went to bed early Friday morning, but when I woke up that afternoon it was doming down quite nicely. It only continued…

  • Reset Sixteen, Day Forty-Five

    The jet stream is shifting, making a big bend southward down the west coast, so it is increasingly likely that late January and early February could…

  • Reset Sixteen, Day Forty-Four

    Wednesday was pretty much what I expected, being a bit cooler and occasionally cloudy, but dry. The weirdest thing was that there were seven fires…

  • 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.