rejectomorph | Springy

When I woke up, the first thing I saw was my arm, which I had just pulled out from under the pillow. The weight of my head had impressed the rumples of the pillowcase into my skin, forming what, in my groggy state, I half perceived as some sort of hieroglyphic message, left there perhaps by creatures from an advanced alien civilization. As I fully woke, I watched the intaglio (or was it cameo) slowly fade, and felt a vague sadness that such serendipitous beauty should be so fleeting. I think I had a sudden glimpse into the motivations of those who practice body modification. It is unlikely that I have thus been converted to their ranks, though. Part of the delight I felt on seeing this remarkably pleasant group of lines and whorls was derived from their accidental nature, and their transience. They had been imposed not by my will, and made permanent, but were a randomly generated gift, unique, never to be duplicated, and departing to leave a bare page on which some future manifestation of the same universal energy might create another work. Still, I wish I had taken a picture. It really was the loveliest bit of skin impressions I can remember ever having received.

Another winter day of spring-like warmth, verging on summery heat, has passed, and the evening birds are chirping with what sounds like delight. This morning, I was sent to sleep with the drumming of woodpeckers, and not a crow was to be heard. Some people find woodpeckers annoying, but I find their rapid thumps restful, and even hypnotic. There were three woodpeckers, on different trees, each tree creating a different resonance depending on the density of its wood. It was very pleasant listening.

These few days of elevated temperatures have wrought remarkable change. Flowering trees have exploded with color, leaves have begun to emerge on the peach tree, and the cherry tree has begun to drape itself in white. I even see the beginnings of blossoms on the jasmine, which usually doesn't flower until June. All the woodland is rushing into spring, as though there were no time to waste. I wonder if it knows something I don't?

Incidentally, this is my 2000th LJ post. I guess I won't be doing anything special for it. Cake will not be served.