Morning

As the sky begins to pale, the gauze of cloud which has dimmed or obscured most of the stars all night is revealed. Something is causing several distant dogs to bark. I hear one, then another, then a third, as though they were having a conversation. I've been hearing other sounds. Odd flutterings, as of wings, but too close to the ground. Twigs cracking. A soft whooping sound, perhaps from some bird perched somewhere in the forest. Mostly, I have heard the sprinklers in the orchard, sending their artificial rain over the ripening apples. The click of their turning mechanisms reminds me of woodpeckers drilling into bark. Even the thing I know, and know the reason of, becomes mystery in the dark. All I have not seen will vanish or appear once night is lifted. The familiar will be restored, un-changed.

Still reading Levertov--

( Sunday Morning Verse: )

Yech

I've just been through an incredibly crappy day, which I don't want to re-live by bitching about it. I hope I never have another day so crappy, but I doubt I'll get that wish.

On the bright side, a nephew-in-law has synchronized the telescope (possibly), so I might finally get to see something in it. Mars is speeding away. Who could blame it? Earth is a pretty lousy neighborhood to be in. If the telescope is in fact fixed, I'll take a look at Mars as it beats its hasty, well-advised retreat from the slum planet of humanity. I wish it well.

I also say "good riddance" to August. You won't be missed.