Rorshaching
7:08 PM, Yesterday, I sat outside in the slow dusk, reading a novel set one thousand years into the future. A cold mouthful of Corona swirled in my throat during chapter breaks — or when I just felt like setting the book aside and Rorshaching the almost abstract view of leafy treetops silhouetted against the luminous, short light sky. If I tipped my head back, I could view the moon, set in blue clarity. I have always enjoyed the lunar glow — but it is never more striking and eldritch than when it is visible in daylight hours.
I finished the book and sat back, watching the atmospheric colors settle to the horizon and deepen to a rich purple-black. Across the way, a firefly gave me a bioluminescent wink and I took a deep breath of the cooling air.
I felt stressed-out, used up, and sad.
But the book had been good. And the night was crisply sweet.
Today I’m just tired; eyes a bit grainy. I need to brush my teeth and I’m doing laundry. Though it is evening, the sky outside is still bright. The air is much warmer today, filled with a humid heat that you can almost run your fingers through, like the heavy mane of some elemental beast.
It is Thursday; the weekend is almost here.
And the daisies are blooming, next to the water garden.
— JWR, 6/24/99