Subject of Entry

Can you tell I've been listening to Filter's Title of Record?

After a few days of warm days with blank skies, tonight the clouds returned, scumbled pale blue in the light of a nearly full moon. If they remain tomorrow, I may get some pictures with them. The landscape always looks better with cloud floating above it.

I'd like to write something about my trip to Chico the other day, but I think too much time has passed, or too little. If I don't write about something almost as soon as it happens, then I usually have to wait to see if it sticks in my mind long enough to become a significant memory. Right now, the day is in that limbo of the recent past, having lost its immediate importance and not having proved its durability.

Oh, reality and its oddness. What is to become of it?

last night I wore new black pants.
tonight I wear new blue pants.
I like my new pants.

In

the afternoon when the soft breeze shook the new leaves, I saw a shadow cross the lawn, then another. I moved out from under the shade of the tree and looked up into the brightness, in time to see a pair of hawks gliding silently sunward. They passed from my sight behind the trees to the west, and the only flying things remaining were the dark butterflies and the single buzzing bumblebee.