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Hemingwayesque
Jan. 16th, 2006 05:39 pmThe snails in the fish tank had a lot of sex today. The water was cloudy.
All the other fish ate their babies.
All the other fish ate their babies.
Rain and jazz
Sep. 16th, 2002 12:41 pmI'm sitting at my desk at the home office, listening to Vince Guaraldi and watching the rain fall onto the trees and onto the deck. I think the music and the rain go nicely together; it's been a very chill Monday so far.
I got a call last night from a woman I was dating earlier this year. I'd sent her an email a few days ago to say hi, not really expecting any kind of response... she'd broken it off a little abruptly for her own reasons, so I wasn't sure if she'd be interested in hearing from me. She mailed me back though, and I made a suggestion of maybe taking things a little slower and getting together again to see what happens. She seemed pretty receptive to it. She lives in NH, but she just happened to be coming up from the Cape last night - but I hadn't given her my new cell phone number, so she just left a message on the home machine.
She might be coming down to see the play when it goes up. It would be really nice to see her again, even just to catch up and hang out.
The rain's stopped. That's a good thing.
I got a call last night from a woman I was dating earlier this year. I'd sent her an email a few days ago to say hi, not really expecting any kind of response... she'd broken it off a little abruptly for her own reasons, so I wasn't sure if she'd be interested in hearing from me. She mailed me back though, and I made a suggestion of maybe taking things a little slower and getting together again to see what happens. She seemed pretty receptive to it. She lives in NH, but she just happened to be coming up from the Cape last night - but I hadn't given her my new cell phone number, so she just left a message on the home machine.
She might be coming down to see the play when it goes up. It would be really nice to see her again, even just to catch up and hang out.
The rain's stopped. That's a good thing.
Last night, I left work in Billerica at about 7:30 or so, and I walked into a majestic sunset. There were pink and purple clouds stretched thin across the top of the sky, and they were scalloped and ragged in parts - like a knitted blanket, with a pattern of rhomboid holes woven into the air. And the holes where the sky came through were a deep, rich cyan as clear and perfect as anything.
Near the horizon, where the colors approached a darker maroon, another stretch of clouds were strewn with bright orange filaments... thin wires of a deep amber bunched together, as if they were burning embers stacked on top of the world.
I couldn't help watching it. I stood there, leaning on my car, for a good five minutes while the scene grew darker and darker. I felt an impulse to chase the sunset, but I knew there was no way I could catch up to it - I had to enjoy it now, had to watch it from the parking lot... because it would soon be gone. And I thought to myself: now is the perfect moment. And every moment is also the perfect moment, and all I have to do is be there and take it all in. Every single moment of life is an event, an instantaneous epiphany that should be savored to the fullest.
Right now, as I'm typing this, I'm watching a fly trapped in the window in front of me. He's half an inch long, an enormous bug. He keeps rubbing his legs together in an almost obsessive compulsive way. And he's got these bulgy red eyes... I think he's watching me. Maybe he has the same awe of life that I do...
Near the horizon, where the colors approached a darker maroon, another stretch of clouds were strewn with bright orange filaments... thin wires of a deep amber bunched together, as if they were burning embers stacked on top of the world.
I couldn't help watching it. I stood there, leaning on my car, for a good five minutes while the scene grew darker and darker. I felt an impulse to chase the sunset, but I knew there was no way I could catch up to it - I had to enjoy it now, had to watch it from the parking lot... because it would soon be gone. And I thought to myself: now is the perfect moment. And every moment is also the perfect moment, and all I have to do is be there and take it all in. Every single moment of life is an event, an instantaneous epiphany that should be savored to the fullest.
Right now, as I'm typing this, I'm watching a fly trapped in the window in front of me. He's half an inch long, an enormous bug. He keeps rubbing his legs together in an almost obsessive compulsive way. And he's got these bulgy red eyes... I think he's watching me. Maybe he has the same awe of life that I do...
