Tangerine: A Book of Hours

Latency. An echo, ghost, a lingering scent: Summer has moved past. The swish of a deep green skirt made of rain and flowers. Sky-blue eyes.

An after-image.

Mysterious Autumn: now. Hiding, behind a Goth lace fan, eyes the color of pumpkins.

The air is cool. Cicadas. The greenery is still fresh, strong. Flowers in bloom.

But a change in the quality of light, perhaps. Longer rays. A slant more pronounced. I have seen Orion, low in the night sky. Risen, again.

Here and there leaves have fallen. Hints.

The windows are still open. Music slipping quietly out while cool air slips in. The evening sky is a deep, dusty lavender.

I'm a bit dizzy...in need of a light meal, and a tall glass of water. Thinking of the passage of time and the balancing of hours.

Equinox.

Posted by The Allurium at 7:43 PM | Permalink | Comments (2)

The old oak has fallen, unnoticed.

It's wide gray bulk horizontal now -- extending in the underbrush like a rounded wall. One hundred feet or more it was. From its top, the neighborhood was visible as a diorama; small toys coming and going while it endured. Its trunk was so wide that it could not be embraced. Wind breathed through its hand-sized leaves and acorns fell through unnumbered seasons. It held a tree house for some long time. Stories were read, there...

A sunset-tinted rose blooms in the yard. It smells like God.

Butterflies like bits of stained glass tumble in the air. Late last night, and on through the morning, the full moon poured light down on the oak, fallen. Perhaps deer and other creatures moved around it, through the underbrush.

Vast it still is, slumped upon the ground. The date of its birth, unknown -- as the date of its fall. Surely there must have been a great and booming sound as its tangled roots ripped free of softened earth, an oceanic crashing of leaves and branches. A deep pulse in the ground.

But none of this was seen or heard. Now, just the afterword -- and the mute settling of wood and sap.

Posted by The Allurium at 4:46 PM | Permalink | Comments (2)

Sound has always had the ability to pull tears and chills from me. Shivers and smiles. If the moon were made of notes it would pull on me and create tides like music does.

I saw a news article about infrasound, late last night...

Researchers think that very low frequency sound may be responsible for some of the effects that people associate with hauntings. You can't hear infrasound consciously -- but it creates effects within. Shivers, apprehension, other feelings and phenomena. Elephants use infrasound to communicate over long distances. They also use it as a weapon.

Makes me think that sound fills up the world like water...and that we move through it not noticing most of its weight and influence upon us.

The world outside ourselves is much deeper than we think -- and it effects us much more intimately than we tend to give it credit for.

All kinds of tides and currents out there, in here...

Posted by The Allurium at 6:35 PM | Permalink | Comments (0)