October 18, 2017 § Leave a comment
It’s a photography term, meaning the hour just after sunrise or before sunset, where the light across the landscape turns everything varying shades of gold.
There’s a medical definition for it, too:
- the first hour after the occurrence of a traumatic injury, considered the most critical for successful emergency treatment.
I caught the golden hour (in the photographic sense) this morning. Normally, I’m in the shower at that time, waiting for the hot spray to restore the blood flow to my brain. This morning, I woke an hour before the alarm and couldn’t get back to sleep, so … golden hour.
There’s construction across the street from the office, a steel skeleton of a building at this point; its silver bones gleamed pink gold. Passing cars winked bright orange flashes as their windows caught the rising sun. Every pale curb and post glowed rosy.
For a moment, the only sound was the soft gurgle of the coffeemaker as I watched the world dance in the dawn of the new day.
Nothing deep, today. Just a reminder that every new day is filled with golden hours.
(Photo Credit: Diliff – Own work, CC BY-SA 3.0, https://commons.wikimedia.org/w/index.php?curid=267594)
October 17, 2017 § Leave a comment
It’s colder here. After summer temperatures lingered into last weekend, autumn has finally arrived. I woke up chilled beneath two blankets, and had to warm the bathroom with the space heater before I was willing to crawl out of my robe.
Time for long pants and thick socks and extra blankets on the bed. Cuddling close, stealing warmth from others and giving it in return. Chilly hands and ghostly breath.
Last year about this time, I said that I’m a summer creature. Not myself in any other season. I had no idea then how true that was. No idea that even in summer, this year, I would not be myself.
Now the year shows its gray. The path ahead is shorter than the path behind. But it still has teeth and claws, and strength enough to do more damage. I don’t expect it to go quietly into the lengthening night.
The sun will spend fewer hours in the sky from here on out. It’s the moon’s turn to dominate, and the stars. I’m strangely comfortable with that, this year. I welcome it.
Right now, the clouds have cleared. The sun shines bright and strong, even though there’s still a chill in the air. But summer’s childish play is over. Autumn’s toil begins: mulch the leaves, stack wood for the fires, get out the down blankets and the thick sweaters.
Do the work needed. Keep doing it.
Time to welcome the moon.
August 10, 2017 § Leave a comment
I’m an atheist, and I don’t believe in the supernatural. No afterlife, no ghosts, no gods or devils, heavens or hells. I trust science, and so far, science has found no evidence that there’s something after death. Just darkness and silence.
And yet sometimes — sometimes — something happens that makes me wonder, just for a moment, if maybe there is an undiscovered country. « Read the rest of this entry »
August 5, 2017 § Leave a comment
The walls have thorns. The paths are full of sharp stones. The leaves beneath your feet have been trodden black by millions who have come before you.
Weren’t you just here? You are not prepared for this. You never are.
Pick a path. Start walking.
Get out of the bed. Take a shower. Brush your teeth. Brush your hair.
Always turn right. Isn’t that what they say to do? Or is it left?
Take your pills and fight to keep them down. Pack something bland for lunch. Half a sandwich, perhaps.
If it’s dark, look to the moon. If she hasn’t been hung yet, find a sprinkle of stardust.
Make a list. Start at the top. Check things off, one by one by one.
The bees will bring you honeyed memories. Each one will sting. They’ll be the only treasures you’ll find here.
Listen to classical music, and let the waves of it wash over you. Waltz in the blue Danube.
Is there a way out this time? You can’t see it. You may never find it. Keep moving.
Call your mom.
If you find a bottle of sweet wine, speak to it of nothings.
Chew gum; it keeps you from clenching your teeth.
Comfort the small creatures and let them comfort you.
Sleep, if you can. When you can.
Sing a song to greet the dawn. One of the old ones. One of the sad ones.
Keep walking. Keep turning right. Or is it left?
June 7, 2017 § Leave a comment
There are still books to be read, and be written.
There are still spring flowers and summer fireflies and autumn leaves and the hush of winter snowfalls.
There are still sunrises and sunsets to see.
There are still roads not taken, trails not explored, mountains not climbed.
There are still adventures you’ve not had.
There are still grandeurs yet to see, and beauties yet to lift your heart and expand your mind and soothe your soul.
There are still canyons to call into.
There are still milestones to celebrate.
There are still conversations to be enjoyed, by firelight or candlelight or in the dark or in the pub.
There are still friends you have and friends you’ve yet to meet.
There are still reeds bent low by raging rivers, standing tall when the waters calm.
There are still all these, and more.
If you are weary, pause from the fight (but only pause). Be still. Breathe.
Remember what you fight for, and why. There are still so many good things worth the battle.
May 31, 2017 § Leave a comment
Good morning. I ate breakfast before I left the house. So what if it was doughnuts? Shut up, it’s still a major accomplishment for me.
Last night, I visited with my friend Luna, whom I hadn’t seen in too long, and others I see more often but usually don’t get to have a good conversation with. The group was small and the environs quiet enough that we could all hear each other and have a good chat. I’d almost forgotten how nice that was.
At one point, we were lamenting the monsoon spring we’ve had. Round after round of torrential rain, flash floods, intense storms. The flooded basements that come with it. « Read the rest of this entry »
May 11, 2017 § Leave a comment
Architecture is a particular fascination for me. Not professionally; I’ve never had any dreams of becoming an architect. It’s merely a casual interest. Buildings and their design fascinates me, and I can wander around just about any neighborhood and be intrigued by the buildings there.
I’m most aware of my surroundings — and particularly, the buildings — when I’m a passenger traveling through a strange part of town or a city I’ve never been to. If I don’t have to pay attention to the way, I can relax and take in the alien landscape.
So it was when I found myself in Minneapolis last week, traveling for work. I’d never been to the city before, and imagined it to be some boxy, dull, cookie-cutter town. And it might have been, at one point, but then the aliens landed and began making Minneapolis over into a semblance of their home planet. « Read the rest of this entry »