Nearing Dawn

The half moon is high and still bright, but Venus is the last star shining as the sky turns pale. Several crows fly over, singly, each cawing a few times as it passes. The last of them wakes the first jay, which then squawks the other birds awake. The light has a lavender hue which complements the clump of pink roses still uneaten by the deer. A car turns onto the street. Someone is delivering newspapers. The gray bundles smack the asphalt driveways, slide, and skid to a stop. They are full of nothing I care to know in this quiet moment. I am watching the living trees emerge from night's shroud, their leaves and needles already gleaming slightly with anticipated sunlight.

Dammit, Janet!

I am temporarily astonished. A few minutes ago, an ice cream truck visited my street. I heard the music box over the hum of the air conditioner, and thought something had gone wrong with my ears. It got louder, so I looked out the window and there it was! A genuine ice cream truck! It drove slowly up to the end of the block, and then returned. The only thing that prevented me from thinking that it had fallen through a time warp from 1955 was the fact that the music it played was clearly synthesized. I haven't seen one of those things in ages, but I clearly remember what a real ice cream truck music box sounds like.

I opened the window to hear it more clearly, and as its sound faded in the distance, I heard another sound from further off. Emanating from some garage, or perhaps the park with the baseball bleachers a mile or so away, where public events are sometimes held, I could hear faintly the sound of a highly amplified metal/blues band. The ice cream truck may not have fallen through a time warp, but I think that band did. I was a bit disoriented by the sudden transition from the mid 1950's to the late 1960's, and wondered what other years might be lurking in the balmy evening. I glanced over at Sluggo, and was relieved to see that he had not been suddenly replaced by a Commodore 64 while my back was turned.

I forgot to get any flavored teas while I was shopping yesterday, and now I have to make do with ordinary Lipton. It is dull, but serviceable. If I'm going to get more interesting tea, it will have to be tomorrow. Monday and Tuesday, they will be finishing the re-paving job (left hanging at the end of last summer) along the main road nearby, and traffic will be subject to fifteen minute delays both days. As that road is the only access to and from the neighborhood, its going to be too much bother to make any shopping excursions. I'll just settle in and enjoy the smell of hot asphalt being poured.

Two Things

First, almost everything in the world is apparently now on the Internet. There is even a web site dedicated to gar fishing! Gar are scary! Look at some of the pictures in the gallery.

Second, I have posted a premature bonus Sunday Verse in greatpoets. Yvor Winters! There might be more of him tomorrow morning. I haven't decided yet.