Breathing in the Evening
Sep. 8th, 2002 08:24 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
rejectomorphA few swirls of feathery cirrus clouds catch the afterglow of sunset. The larger clouds have been hanging over the mountains to the north again today. They tantalize me with the suggestion of rain, but the air remains dry. Barely a breeze has stirred all afternoon, and the evening is warm enough for the cicadas to be chirring again. Except for them, and a dog that barks, the world is silent, hanging on the edge of night. The sky at first shrinks as it darkens, but soon will expand with the emerging stars. The slender crescent of the waxing moon is concealed behind the trees to the west.
All this I observe with careful deliberation, as the temptation to wander off into one of my fantasy worlds is strong these days. I must remember to keep a grip on this concrete reality, lest I find myself waking, weeks hence, from some Atlantean dream, disgruntled at having been brought back to the dull world I haven't made. Things tend to fall apart when I go away. They fall apart when I stay, as well, of course. But at least, when I keep my presence of mind, I can do a bit of daily maintenance on them. I think I need something that tastes good. I think I need chocolate.
All this I observe with careful deliberation, as the temptation to wander off into one of my fantasy worlds is strong these days. I must remember to keep a grip on this concrete reality, lest I find myself waking, weeks hence, from some Atlantean dream, disgruntled at having been brought back to the dull world I haven't made. Things tend to fall apart when I go away. They fall apart when I stay, as well, of course. But at least, when I keep my presence of mind, I can do a bit of daily maintenance on them. I think I need something that tastes good. I think I need chocolate.
