Monday, October 6, 2008

moonlight & dawn

If I close my eyes I can hear geese and ducks making small talk on the water. If i don't have to close the window for the sake of cold, I think I could listen all night to their chatter. What are they talking about? Joy in the full moon? Preparations for the great flight? Delighting in the last warm night for a while, perhaps? I can't see them because my light dims my eyes sensitivity to moonlight, and their silhouettes get lost to the ripples of the lake.

I turned off the light in hopes of being able to write in moonlight alone, but alas it won't work. The lines on the page are rendered invisible by its blue glow. It is a perfect evening for listening and the sounds fill the cabin. A squirrel clumsily thrashing through the bushes. A steady hum of crickets. The gentle lap of water slapping rock. Over the lake, laughter is carried from a distant party to my ears. 

I revel in nights like this and wish my own house was as open to nature as this cabin is. The room I sleep in the cabin is really the living room with several extra beds in it.  The beauty of that is the side walls of the room are nearly all windows. I purposely take the bed aligned with the sunrise so it wakes me up with it every time I stay there. 

Warm sun on my cheeks is one of the most pleasant wake up calls I've ever received.

Sunday, October 5, 2008

Pulled over, Route 9, 8am, foggy

Fog is something I've recently been fascinated with. As I write this I'm sitting inside a morning cloud, in my car, awed by beauty and the unknown. As I bring myself to wake up as I drive, I suddenly find myself floating through a sea of color-eating mist - changing the greens oranges and yellows of the trees into muted, pale imitations, save for the brief instant that I get to glimpse them when I get close enough. That tiny bit allowed to be revealed at any given moment has its own mystery and almost sensual quality - like the flash of a naked ankle of a fully covered woman in a burka.

Fog can feel like you're going to fall off the planet, somehow falling forever in a void of white mist. I saw a road sign that said 'Right Lane Ends' and immediately imagined a car driving over a cliff into the unknown, and somehow flying on like a balloon let go from a child's hand. 

The mist and fog clouds a familiar landscape in mystery, begs me to ask what's around the next bend, the next hill or valley. I have to say I love what weather can do to a familiar landscape - part of the inexhaustible beauty and uniqueness of nature. This spot, this moment, will not hold the same secrets tomorrow, nor will it be any less beautiful.

I like how fog can change your perspective, how it can change what's hidden and what's seen, like a skilled photographer's composition. I've seen fog turn mountains into islands, trees into ghosts and curves of a road into a magical path. 

I've seen fog spilling out of a graveyard on Halloween so creepily I avoided driving over the mist in fear of disturbing the dead souls within it. Fog often makes me think of death - not in a way which evokes fear but maybe one of peace. I imagine death could be like approaching a foggy curve in the road, its edges just blurred to oblivion, and the trip around the bend is known to no one but somehow is attractively serene. I can only hope that when I die I am greeted with such a beautiful sight.

Friday, October 3, 2008

remembering not to worry

The rain today seems to complement my energy level, not very violently strong but deliberate and tired. I had a lot to accomplish today and didn't quite fit in all of it. Sometimes that's how the day goes, though. Accepting that my to-do lists are always impossibly long is helpful when I really begin to worry about getting everything done. 

I recently figured out that I have a procrastination problem that involves feeling overwhelmed. If I feel overwhelmed then I also feel paralyzed and can't start anything because of the associated worries about getting everything else on the list done. That, in turn, allows my to-do list only to grow scarier and scarier. So I've been trying not to acknowledge the overwhelmed feeling and just press forward towards accomplishing things. I vow to keep working on something all day, to keep moving, writing, cleaning, reading, whatever it is until it comes to the point that I can cross something off the 'big list'. 

I have a lot rolling around in my head, so physically writing down and crossing items off lists certainly helps to quiet the voice that's asking me what I've already forgotten to do. My memory is a direct cause for anxiety and I compensate by using devices to assist my memory. I did notice this week while driving that I was recalling memories easily when I was relaxed- and they were memories I hadn't touched on in quite a while. I do believe in attention restoration theory and maybe that's all I really need - a little more calm and free thinking. I think I'm enjoying journaling, too, for that reason because it gives me a moment to focus and recall the thoughts on events of the day.

Thursday, October 2, 2008

Good Day sunlight

Good-day sunlight 
Id like to say how truly bright you are 
You dont know me but I know you 
Youre my favorite star 
Follow you I will so lets get moving 
Who needs shelter when the mornings coming?  
Absolutely theres no one 
Who needs shelter from the sun?  
Not me, no. not anyone. 
By your clock the cock rooster crows 
Then off to work where everybody goes 
Slow, but eventually they get there 
Picking up the day shift back where all left off 
Confined and pecking at relationships 
You know its only a worthless piece of shit 
Who needs shelter when the mornings coming? 
 Absolutely theres no one 
Who needs shelter from the sun?  
Not me, no. not anyone.
 Id sleep it all away but the sun wont let me 
Id miss those lovely days of summer 
Good-day sunlight 
Id like to say how truly bright you are 
You dont know me but I know you 
Youre my favorite.

Wednesday, October 1, 2008

morning, time

I'm so glad I can see in color. I'm sure I wouldn't understand what I'm missing if I couldn't, but there must be something neurologically stimulating and attractive about bright colors. Driving from Dover to Grafton, VT takes three hours on paper. Six hours of my day stuck driving a car. Except that its autumn, and Vermont, and absolutely stunning.

As many people in New England do, I am transfixed by leaves in chromatic spectrums on branches which hang over the road like the most elegant wedding decorations. The little yellow ones that fall like tinker tape confetti as I swoop around rural roads on the drive just instantly make me smile. The bright red ones that glow even brighter when coated in rain and illuminated by morning sun. 

Mornings are special to me lately because I've never really experienced the process of morning like I do now, I never work up early enough to know or what to get privileged access to morning views. If I could get my body to cooperate, I'd like to wake up and see the dawn each morning as I wake up. Maybe take an early walk, ride or drive to photograph those things that most people don't really get to see.

Whole songs have been written about the process of dawn, the one I remember most is Jon i Mitchell's Morning Morgantown "When morning comes to Morgantown, the merchants roll their awnings down, the milk trucks make their morning rounds in morning Morgan town. We'll rise up early with the sun and ride the bus while everyone is yawning and the day is young in morning Morgantown"

Unfortunately, my brain doesn't cooperate with the early rising unless it has to, but Antioch has provided that official reason for me to drive in at dawn. Seeing the same road at the same time each morning makes me acutely connected to and aware of the seasonal change. I cherish it. 

Daylight savings time really messes me up though because the transition is so abrupt and un-natural. The gradual tilt change, the angle of the light works in harmony with our brain's rhythms. To so horribly shock it seems just cruel to our psyche I wonder if people get grumpier at those transitions. I do! For now though, nature and the beauty of the colors is enough to keep me serene and peaceful these days.