Reset Forty-Nine, Day Three Hundred Fifty-Two

Saturday I saw all those web posts about the northern lights, and decided I'd give some attention to them Saturday night when they were expected to return. But then I got very tired, and took a nap that lasted until half past two this morning, and then my brain didn't engage until about six, and by then it was too late. My legs were getting terrible cramps when I woke up, which was quite distracting, and on top of my regular old guy forgetfulness, so it's not surprising that I didn't remember. So my experience of this years rare northern lights display was no more than a couple of days of really slow Idernet, and some pictures online that took forever to open.

But now I write a few words and sit for an hour as though they would grow like seeds into something beautiful, but they are still just a few words and tit seems I have no more today. The sunlight is now spilling into the backyard and all the leaves of the poke weed and the grape vine and the two big bushes I can't identify are an improbable spring green dripping light as sharp as lemon juice. It hasn't gotten hot yet, but it will. The fan blowing all night got the apartment down to 71 degrees, which I can live with, or die with, six of one half a dozen of the other. My brain fuzz has me sad and I think I'll see if I can nap some more and forget where I am and why.


( Sunday Verse )