By James Abbott McNeill -“Nocturne”
It was so dark this morning the sun didn’t come up until 8 and when it did no one noticed, the rain came back. Even the bistro lights were confused (they’re on a timer), they came on thinking it was dusk. And so did I. And Charlotte had a soccer game but we were all good sports about it. She still hasn’t scored a goal, but she moved with such determination, how she looked running into the rain with her arms pumping, squinting, dribbling—and though she could not convert, how proud I was to watch. They all drove me crazy though, and I needed some alone time. I worked in the kitchen and went up to work on a deck. It felt so good to burrow into the smallness of a PowerPoint presentation. I remembered a dream I had about my old boss and it was like a tiny explosion in my gut. I held my kids’ hands in their bunk beds, gave them a pump, turned the arms back an hour and sat back down on the couch thinking, what’s next.
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Categories: musings
Bill Pearse 
the possibilities are endless.
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Time changes are like an event. I was thinking (sleepless) this morning, what must have that been like, the first time, the all-around foreignness of it. It must have felt apocalyptic in some ways. Now it’s seasonal, like Elf showing up on TV November 1.
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Our cat fell off the bed onto my face and scratched me in multiple places, about 6 ( or7, really ).
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You hear twice a year now that the time change is unnecessary and even bad for us somehow. I don’t know. I like the ritual of it. And this morning it was light out at 6:30, which made us feel better. It’s weird getting up when it’s still dark (though I did that for many years …).
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I prefer dark mornings for some reason, less impetus to get going. Liking the start to dusk right about now though, barely 4 this far north!
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Could relate to the soccer kid and that need to get away. Your writing just gets better and better.
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Thanks, that’s why I keep squeezing that tube to see how much I can get to come out!
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Ode on a Nocturne. That seems like a way to describe this oddly poetic piece.
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I love that print, I stumbled upon it. Gosh, weird times. Kind of at a loss to be anywhere today — but got to get ready for work, that’s somewhere to be at least! Hope you’re well Kiri. — Bill
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If by well, you mean clinging by my fingernails on the ragged edge of terror…then yes. I’m ‘well!’
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You mean you still have nails?
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