rejectomorph (flying_blind) wrote,
rejectomorph
flying_blind

Being Quiet

I could compare the night sky to something- perhaps to a translucent map of islands and continents adrift in a cerulean sea- but, in fact, it looks like exactly what it is- a partly cloudy sky lit by a brilliant moon that is nearly full. Tonight, I have no desire for the fancies or conceits of metaphor... except for the one I just used about metaphor being fancies or conceits, of course. Tonight, I like things just as they are. I like the dark pine trees being pine trees, and their silhouetted branches being branches, full of clustered, pointy needles that are just discernable in the bright light. I like the shadows of the bare mulberry branches being simply shadows, which darken patches of ordinary damp lawn from which rises the commonplace scent of earth and grass. I especially like the owl hoot I hear being no more than the call of an earthly bird, out seeking a meal. Everything is exactly right the way it is, unembellished by sparkly words. The quiet of the land is only enhanced by my own silence. I'm going to be as quiet as my cat is when she stalks her small, gray prey,
Subscribe

  • Reset Nineteen, Day Ten

    Friday I managed to wake up not long after two o'clock, so the evening was not too short. It remained balmy outside for a while, and I sat under the…

  • Reset Nineteen, Day Nine

    Sleep went erratic again and I didn't get out of bed until four o'clock Thursday afternoon. At least my body got out of bed, and though my brain must…

  • Reset Nineteen, Day Eight

    There was spaghetti (well, angel hair to be precise) for dinner Wednesday, and I'm happy to say that so far the marinara sauce has not brought on any…

  • Post a new comment

    Error

    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.
  • 0 comments