January 26, 2006
Click on the blue music icon above to hear one of my more pensive jazz tunes.
It’s striking, actually unsettling, just how utterly still the air has been all day and night. Not a leaf moving. In the wake of the wind storm, the only hint of the previous madness is the remaining pile of small branches and tarry pieces of roofing laying at the doorstep. I will find another time to clean up the evidence. For now, I stare at a large ficus tree next to the house that two days ago threatened to break, and wonder how it can stand innocently amid the tossed deck furniture and broken planters as though nothing had happened.
The sole movement tonight has been the sudden thunder of well nourished raccoons chasing each other the 60 foot length of the house and back again, using my roof as their racetrack. The heavy, dotted rhythms of their gait shook me out of the undotted rhythms of the passage I had been writing, and I palmed a flashlight to have a look. Standing under a bedroom skylight my eyes peered up to follow the battery-powered beam, and were met unexpectedly with the equally curious gaze of a masked creature who probably wondered what I was doing down here. Before I could finish grinning, he bolted again for the far end of the rain gutter to catch up with another loud-footed friend.
Down by the shoreline this evening, it was damp and still as well. Only my mind continued to race with the wind.