Rush

No silent night tonight. Wind rises and falls but never ceases. I hear it shake distant trees, then those nearer, then those all about. I stand listening to its passage, seeing it bend the pine trees and shake the dim moonlight caught on their needles, feeling it tug my clothes and ruffle my hair and make my skin shiver. It absorbs into its own great voice the sound of cars passing on nearby roads, removing a century of technology from the night and restoring the pristine forest, so it seems as though I alone of all humankind have ever known it. Yesterday afternoon, when the air was still, I looked out my window and saw strewn on the porch dozens of oak leaves, brown and gray and faded green shot with bits of yellow, all the stages of dessication. The season now rushes to meet my disposition. I can't say how pleased I am that October's weather has arrived ahead of the month itself.

( Sunday Verse )

Warmer

A hot day is not so bad when it follows a few cool days, and when I know their kind aren't likely to continue long. Tonight, the insects, including that one persistent cricket who inhabits the yard next door, are sounding off again. The early stars have bloomed, though they are dimmed by a high haze which has formed. The wind which enlivened the afternoon and kept the sky clear has fallen silent. The waning moon will not rise until midnight has passed.

My dad spilled some water on the stove this evening, and now the signal which indicates ignition of the burners won't stop clicking. It sounds like a stoned hipster is in my kitchen, constantly snapping his fingers to some slow music I can't hear. I don't know how many hours it will be until the mechanism dries out and shuts up. I guess I'll be spending more time outdoors tonight, just to get away from the noise.