Friday, March 8, 2019

We have had three months of rain. Today instead of working the list I sat around reading more of C.J. Sansom’s book.  I have moved into the 16^th century England, although I am grateful for my 20^th century house and heat.

I am warmed by a string of lights hung on the far wall.  The lights depict the sun, the moon and the stars. Novelty fairy lights. I listen to the sounds of the heater blowing through the vent.  Outside, in the dark, cats are yelling at each other. And of course, the persistent chorus of tones in my head.

At dawn I see the neighbor’s bright security garage light shining through my living room curtains. Soon a sliver of blue sky amidst the monstrous grey clouds. The apricot tree has few blossoms. The grasses so green that I am stunned.  So beautiful.  And yet I know that so much vegetation means a difficult fire season in the fall.