rejectomorph (flying_blind) wrote,


The wind has grown more persistent tonight, seldom falling still, and often rising to crescendos (crescendi?) which create the aural illusion that the river has risen from its canyon and is now out there, unseen in the darkness, washing the town away. Despite the image of destruction and mayhem it has conjured, I enjoy the sound. The smell it brings is pleasant, too, filled with the scent of agitated pines and the dust of dead summer. The cat has gone outdoors to chase dry leaves across the lawn. I hope her feline wariness is fully engaged. The last time I went out, an angry oak hurled an acorn at me, missing my head by inches. Hah. I barely escaped with my life! Well, that's a slight exaggeration. I barely escaped without an acorn dent in my head, at least. Any actual mortal danger was slight. The night being so full of drama, I simply got caught up in describing the moment.

This wind is from the north, and is thus being compressed as it travels down from the high desert, so this is another of those nights which has actually grown warmer as it has passed. These are my favorite nights of the year, especially when the moon is absent and all the stars glitter brightly. I could spend hours outdoors on such a night, and, in fact, that's just what I've done. And now I'm going out to spend the rest of it the same way, though I'll have that little sliver of recently-risen moon for company. I won't resent its presence this late.

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