06:12. I have tried and tried just now to take a photo for you of the view out the atrium skylight. But I am not skilled in technical photography, and this is a low-light situation. In other words, my twenty-odd tries have failed. So I will have to write it for you instead.
It is not yet dawn. The sky is the colour of deepest indigo ink. But all along the horizon, if one opens one of the two southeastern skylights in each of our two attic bedrooms (which are reachable, unlike the high-up single one, facing the atrium ewok bridge from where I now stand) and looks out, there is a glow of palest golden blue. The tiny sun is not yet seen, orbiting the giant disc of earth, but is shining on, and soon to eclipse with its own magnificent light, that of its reflection on the waning crescent moon.
But soft! No, it is the tiny sphere of earth, orbiting the enormous sun — bringer of light, warmth, and life.
06:52. Dang. That was the total length of my attention span here on the private page. 28 minutes ago, according to some widget in my browser that tells me so, I left off there and went to check notifications in WP. BLOGGING ADDICTION.
Blogging addiction is different from writing addiction. It’s a little-discussed topic. Here to be franchised and revealing my deepest secrets in the process. This is it, this is the heart of me, I am a spider in the web, weaving orbs, catching flies. Possibly like you, possibly like half a billion other gals and guys.
But the flies cause my addiction! They leave a delicious nectar on my screen. A tiny, round drop of pulsing pink, or red, or sometimes green. Ahhhhh, such food for the honeybee queens! Now I can feed my precious hive with a special cocktail of my own making, with all that nectar for the taking. And grow a colony of new pollinators from inside, for new flies’ staking!
Mixing metaphors yet again, how can I escape doing that, the feeling is so zen. Oh,,,, but what heaven, to be on this page again! My baby birds — no! not mine, not at all, just a wee and cosy delighted call. For the sun has full risen, though suddenly behind cloud, and the galaxy is now hidden by a waning white shroud.
The writing is one thing, the blogging yet another. The other now feeds the one, the one now feeds the other. Am I just an oracle, connected in my machine? Or are you the masters, weaving all my dreams.
But back to the moon! That sight! From the indoor bridge, in pre-dawn light.
It shone through the tree, which was black as can be, that bringer of light so inner-green and holy. Its branches still bare, it has nary a care, it knows that new leaves are busy budding in there. But where! The answers lie within. And not in wine nor gin.
Have I added a rhyme, to sell my ideas on a dime? That is quite possible, and the feeling is sublime.
So anyway, you say, what of that sight this day? What of the moon on its waning March way?
Well, my dear, the answer is near. As I crossed the attic bridge, such sight did appear. High in the branches of the still-black tree, a clear silver sliver was shining bright as can be. And just to its left, like a reflection of the west, was a blood-red mirage of the sliver….
I’ve run out of rhymes.
But it was phenomenal. The branches of the tree filled the frame of the skylight, and with this crescent of light, up in the top right, against the dark-blue background of the sky, between its arms. And this very interesting effect of the double-paned glass, causing a non-mirror image, a copy, in effect, but smaller, of that self-same crescent, but in a deep rose-red. So two moons, there, through the glass above my head. And then a bright-bright being, tiny though she was – just a bit further east – that was Venus, earth’s sweetest cuz’.
And one more too, between Venus and red moon, a twinkling one, whose name I know not, so I’ll leave the figuring up to you.
11 months, 22 days of sustained sobriety. After that first 25 pages, I have not yet furthered my progress in the Cal Newport book, nor my knitting, yesterday, but I managed to get the grocery shopping done. Stores were peaceful and quiet – the cashiers told me that the massive rush had been the day before, and that morning – just after the President’s announcement – somehow I missed it all, by procrastinating. Yay me. The lake was also quiet as can be.
08:13 ugh. I went to add links, to the news… decided, rather not. Let’s not self-abuse.
Random unverifiable factoids:
– “But How Many Blogs Are There In Total In 2020? To date, there are more than 500 million blogs out of 1.7 billion websites in the world. Their authors account for over 2 million blog posts daily.” – via“How Many Blogs Are There? We Counted Them All!” – https://hostingtribunal.com/blog/how-many-blogs/