rejectomorph (flying_blind) wrote,

Double Entry Journalkeeping

Since last I looked, I have been moved from the Ribeye cluster to something called the Indigo cluster. How very... Duke Ellington. I like that. Tonight, the sky was deeper than indigo, but certainly blue. Winter's nights pale toward spring, and against the color of the sky the starlight, too, seems more blue. The nights are charged with energy, for a while, before summer's torpor sets in. As my favorite time of year has arrived early, I am spending as much time as possible enjoying it, knowing that what arrives early may depart early as well. In fact, this is the first time in years that the nights have been warm enough for comfortable star watching while the sky is yet unobscured by new leaves. It is a bonus that this weather has coincided with the time of the waning moon. Lying on the lawn in this deep darkness, watching Jupiter pass from east to west, I can almost feel the axial turning of Earth, and sense the great mass of it beneath me being flung through space, all its hurtling weight no more than a speck in that vastness. Heh. I feel like Leonardo DiCaprio.

Because the day was warm yesterday, Sluggo was temperamental and didn't allow me to post an entry, but I did get it written, and managed to save it to the clipboard before the inevitable crash. I failed to post it again a couple of hours ago, and it has taken quite a while to catch up on my reading, so I'm just going to tack it onto the end of this post -- without re-reading it, since that would inevitably lead to (shudder) editing.

Last Night's Delayed Entry:

Night Waking

I'm picturing the river running through the canyon. These warm days must have begun melting the abundant accumulation of snow which blankets the high mountains, and the frigid water will be flowing swiftly, gathering winter's detritus of leaf and twig and branch, washing the riverbanks clean, sending all swirling into the lake. I'm picturing the water darkling with starlight, the fish leaping into air still evening warm, and plunging back into cool depths full of long-passed storms. The mile to the river is filled with growing, the soft soil and matted roots of new grass gradually releasing hoarded heat for the breeze to carry, the brush rustling with nocturnal beasts, hawks like swift, disembodied shadows surveying the dark ground, the owls perched on pine branches, the deer grazing quiet glades. I sense all the gathered night and its unseen life as clearly as I see bright Venus, the lamp of approaching spring.

  • Reset Twenty, Day Five

    Near sunset Saturday there was thunder and some sprinkles, and the driveway got wet enough to turn black and shiny before the stormlet passed. I…

  • Reset Twenty, Day Four

    After the septic pump truck woke me up just before ten o'clock Friday morning, I tried functioning for a few hours but finally fell back into bed…

  • Supplementary

    So I got back to sleep a bit before nine o'clock this morning, and a bit before ten I heard a piece of machinery start up outside. I thought it might…

  • 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.
  • 1 comment