Great Big Moon

If I turn off my lights, the moonlight, filtered through the pine trees, falls into my room in bright patterns. No breeze, and the only sound is the distant chirping of crickets in the orchard. Whatever became of the tree frogs? There once were so many here. They have gone the way of the bats. Bats. Yes. It would be nice to see bats flying across that moon. Full tomorrow night, I think. Full Moon and bats. The perfect combination for summer in decline.

Kind words for Microsoft????

Yeah, I kvetch about them all the time, but the ability to fix the registry from DOS is very usefull. "scanreg.exe /fix" has bailed my sorry ass out several times, especially this last week.
If only MS would quit trying to put out a new OS every two years, and concentrate on getting just one of them right, I would have a lot more respect for them.
And that is about as nice as I can be on the subject.

Sure, I could rub myself with catnip, but...

How crazy would my cats get if I did this? Whatever they say, it might be worse than mosquito bites.

Free verse. (No charge.)

Three hawks just flew over my house and, for some reason, it reminded me of this poem by Yvor Winters. Why, I don't know. No hawks in the poem.

THE EMPTY HILLS
Flintridge, Pasadena

The grandeur of deep afternoons,
The pomp of haze on marble hills,
Where every white-walled villa swoons
Through violence that heat fulfills,

Pass tirelessly and more alone
Than kings that time has laid aside.
Safe on their massive sea of stone
The empty tufted gardens ride.

Here is no music, where the air
Drives slowly through the airy leaves.
Meaning is aimless motion where
The sinking hummingbird conceives.

No book nor picture has inlaid
This life with darkened gold, but here
Men passionless and dumb invade
A quiet that entrances fear.