rejectomorph (flying_blind) wrote,

Returning Moon

After sunset, the cats were delighted to discover that the rain had stopped. I opened the door and they rushed out, unconcerned with the cold and not even caring that their paws were padding on still wet ground. They got to sniff around and run off some of their pent up energy, and once they came back in, I got two much quieter cats. I also got to see the moon, and was surprised at how near the full it is. I had lost track through the long nights of cloud. Its light shone on the drops of water still clinging to the mulberry twigs, and from the right angle they appeared like strange new stars in the sky.

After midnight, when the facades of houses on the far side of the street had fallen into shadow, their frost covered rooftops seemed to hover in the darkness, as though they might at any moment float away, revealing the heavens to the astonished occupants waking in their suddenly wintry beds. Still later, a few clouds formed in the west where the moon was screened by a fretwork of pines, and around the bright near-orb, the icy crystals of moisture in the clouds refracted the moonlight into the colors of the rainbow. Altogether, a pleasant conclusion to the series of storms, or a pleasant hiatus in their midst.

I mustn't delay in getting to sleep today, as the dawn is apt to be bright. Too, I might have to get out and do things this afternoon, and so must wake while enough daylight remains. And when I get back here, I want to see that XColibur has been fixed!

  • Reset Nineteen, Day Sixteen

    Thursday bore some resemblance to normal, in so far as normal exists anymore. I got to sleep not long after five in the morning and woke up a bit…

  • Reset Nineteen, Day Fifteen

    Wednesday went quite pear-shaped. After waking up about five o'clock in the morning, I muddled through the morning and then hit a wall around half…

  • Reset Nineteen, Day Fourteen

    A nap started around ten o'clock Tuesday evening turned into almost a full night's sleep, and I got up not long after five o'clock this morning.…

  • 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.