Chill

Venus and Saturn still light the east these mornings, but draw further apart each day. By the time a thin line of rose sets the horizon aglow, and the stolid trunks of pines and half-denuded tangle of oak branches are revealed against cerulean sky, the two planets are all that remains of night's field of stars. Today, there is no trace of cloud. It will be both cold and bright. Spots that have lain in leafy shade all the long summer days will be exposed, and the edgy shadows of bare twigs will stretch a bit farther north, clawing toward winter. I will pile my bed deep with blankets, and burrow down in search of warm dreams.

Schedule Gone Wrong

Leaden sky prevented light from reaching my window. I didn't wake till five o'clock this evening. My schedule has thus reached the point of total breakage. It will be necessary to find a way to restore it to something closer to normal. This is something I haven't had to do in almost three decades. If it is not done, the instability will grow worse. I don't intend to resort to any sort of medication. But it probably means that I'll be here at even odder than usual hours for a while, and will probably have to limit my computer use as a result of everything else being in flux. Rats!