Buggy

I don't think I've ever seen it rain for so long with so little water reaching the ground. It's been going on for a couple of days, and I doubt that we've had a full inch of actual precipitation. This is more like sweating than raining, except it's cold. Early yesterday morning, I missed the conjunction of Venus, Jupiter and the moon because the event was concealed by the clouds. Given that all I've gotten in return is this perpetual damp, it hardly seems a fair trade.

No entry last evening because I've been feeling vaguely crappy. My attention wanders, I nod off, I get hungry but don't feel like eating, and my joints stiffen up if I stay in one spot more than a few minutes. I'm guessing that some sort of sneaky virus has insinuated itself into my brain and is slowly shutting it down. That ought to be an easy enough task. On the other hand, it might just be PTSD.

Also: the November issue of Wired Magazine arrived in the mail the other day. It includes a CD of music released under a Creative Commons license. I haven't gotten around to listening to any of it- not even the Beastie Boys' track, so I don't know if it's any good, but the concept is interesting.

Patches of Blue

This storm (if storm it can be called- more of a nimbul drip, really) may have been a mediocrity at producing precipitation, but it is breaking up nicely. The afternoon sky has been a splendid display of silver, gray, blue and white, with shafts of light falling now and then to pick out some spot for the sun's special favor: first, some golden patch of oaks, then the deep green wall of a stand of pines, then the dark red of the dogwood, and again the oaks- each flash of color bursting from its dim surroundings, basking for a moment, then surrendering the spotlight to some other feature of the wet landscape. Every plant is bejeweled with drops of water, and every surface dark with damp.

The contrast betwee front yard and back is now remarkable. In the back yard, the walnut tree has dropped all but a few of its bright leaves, and its twiggy shadow now casts a ffiligreeacross the brocade it has lain on the lawn. In the front yard, the fruitless mmulberrystill holds most of its foliage, the outer leaves having turned a pale yellow green, and the under layer of leaves still a darker green. When the sun shines through the front window, it seems almost like spring, but all I need do to see the approach of winter is look out the back.

Still, the most arresting sight the day affords is that ttumultuous variegated sky, with its tumble of light and shade. I could watch it for hours.


( Find your color in this Mondrianesque meme )