There's Still Quiet in the Air

The past two nights I've fallen asleep at 10:00 p.m., only to wake up at around midnight, still feeling groggy, but having the urge to continue the day's reading, so I read for two to three hours. Both nights I went back to sleep around 3:00 a.m. On the first night, laying In bed I became acutely aware of how quiet it was. The house wasn't gurgling and creaking. I didn't hear cars. I kept trying to imagine how one describes the sound of silence, of this perfectly quiet sound. 

The only way that I could do that in my thoughts was to think of all the sounds that I couldn't hear: birds chirping and cawing; the breeze rattling the window blinds and making the trees sing; the neighbors talking, listening to music, the children laughing and crying; cars humming by in the distance; and then I heard one lone bird let out a squawk or squeal. He broke the silence for that one millisecond and the silence resumed. 

The second night--last night, as I lay in bed at that early morning hour again, ready for sleep, this time I heard the crickets. I don't hear them often. I took in their music, then they stopped. It was another quiet night, but this time after the restless night continued, I could hear the light wind and feel it on my face. 

In the quiet, I could almost hear the beating of my own heart, feel the pulse beating in my hand. I imagined the great night sky overhead, stars twinkling their eyes opened and closed. 

Right now it's morning time. I woke at 8:00 a.m., trying to decide if I felt that I got enough sleep. I can hear the absence from the night before. The silence has been filled, but not completely. There's still quiet in the air. 

Night

Tonight I drove home with my mouth agape staring at the moon; trees streamed by, blocked my view as I ducked and searched–where is the moon?!

A champagne moon spilled out on its side, close enough to touch.

And the tree I've been admiring each night of class, in her bare beauty, was clothed in beautiful pink blossoms tonight. She looked alive. I like her bare and also in full dress.

What a beautiful night. The air feels fresh. The streets are empty and class was quite satisfying.

Under the Night Moon

She peers out the window into the
night, under the rays of the moon.
From somewhere the words appear: bamboo moon.

She climbs through the large
opening of a bamboo shoot,
crawls up and up,

guided
by the moon;
light filters in.
Dark womb,
she feels a swaying
motion through her limbs,
a lake in sight, midnight blue
stretched across years. When
she reaches the end of the bamboo
she pauses at the
opening,

sitting on her knees, gazing
up at her reflection in the lake—
bamboo moon.

Night

The soul is cleansed
in the sleep of night. 
Each tomorrow, a new day. 

Piles, clean desk & a restless sleep.

Piles of papers, receipts, store clothing tags, earrings, a dollar bill, old bills, new bills, rubber bands, small books, a compact camera in a baggie, a hairbrush, dust—all of these things were becoming too much. I have gotten behind in sorting through the desk where the computer stands that I used to sit at and type into. Lately, I’ve been using my laptop, away from the desk. I didn’t plan on writing anything this morning. I put most of the odds and ends into a large bag to sort through later. I’m able to sit here now and I must say it’s a nice change to be able to sit with my legs crossed under each other in the chair. My joints feel as though they’ve been oiled. For a long time I couldn’t bend one of my knees under, but for several weeks, it’s been easier, less of a crunching sound. I love the light in here, in the bedroom, where the miniature desk sits as I type and hear the man blowing leaves outside and the NovaLatino CD streaming “Latino moods and Brazilian beats” out from the living room, reaching back to me. I can see the brightness of the sun on my screen from the window and my cup of tea sits there at my left waiting to be finished.

Yesterday I felt a little more tired than usual. This often happens by Thursday. I think it’s more mental tiredness than anything. I went and laid down early—about 8:30 p.m. and slept until about midnight. Since I slept for a good chunk of the early part of the night, I had trouble sleeping during the later part of the night. I looked at the clock: 1:36 a.m. I just sat there, enjoying the silence. I could hear the non-sound of outside because no cars were passing, no man blowing his leaf blower, no birds—and where do the birds go at night to sleep? But then I heard off in the distance a flock or maybe it was a pair—Canadian Geese. Ah, how lovely, I thought. Black webbed feet holding up a rotund bunch of light mocha and cream feathers, attached by the most slender and graceful black neck. Oh how I would enjoy watching them and feeding them at the park as a child and also as an early adult. I was surprised to hear them at these wee hours, but then again, perhaps they like to travel at early morning hours too.

Sheep. 1…2….3.  A yawn. 4…I reached 10 and counted beyond that, but I don’t know that it put me to sleep. I did feel more soothed. Next time I woke up and looked at the clock it was about 3:30 a.m. or thereabouts. The moon had come around again, bright and large. I perched up and looked outside. The clouds! Amazing puzzle pieces—illuminated puzzle pieces against a midnight blue aglow that made me think of the classical piece by Erik Satie, Gymnopopedie No. I. I cannot tell you why—only that it is a feeling. Even though this piece has a melancholy feel to it, at the same time, it is both peaceful and feels filled with imagination. This image—of those clouds—illuminated puzzle pieces, dancing with the moon—it was the highlight of my restless evening and when I did look out in amazement, the first words from my mouth were an ever so quiet, w-o-w. I felt like a child looking at the night sky for the first time. Careful not to make too much noise, I tucked myself back into bed and slept soundly through the morning.

Gymnopedie No. I

 http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=4Xe2Rft62Kg

December Night

December Night

Happy puppy licking the back window. The sun that rose in the bedroom window this morning, I see up over the hill as I drive in the opposite direction, it now sets--a large burnt tangerine globe going down the mountain. I pass the tree lot. Lights around the perimeter glow softly. Families scurrying to find the perfect tree. What happens to those trees that remain I always wonder. Back into the earth they came from--mulch, I suppose. The cold in the air clips my nose. The stark trees silhouetted, stark naked, sharing the space with other trees that still hold their autumn foliage close to their breast. It is the season of holiday lights and people running around in good cheer and the crows harking in the background. And to all a good night.

**

I originally wrote this on December 8. I was driving to the store the long way and the calm affect of the drive opened me to the night. The puppies are what got me and the everything was filled with emotion after that. I wanted to pull over but there wasn't anywhere and I was nearing my destination. I pulled into the parking lot and pulled out my iPod Touch and began tapping out my musings. I kept them the way they flowed out--without edits.

This is an unrelated photo of nighttime-- unrelated in the sense that it was a different day. 

Happy Day & Writing and Creating!

Three Moons

I woke in the middle of the night to the brightest presence staring back at me. I sleep on the window side and I hoisted myself up on the window sill to steady myself. The full moon was brilliant; it angled toward the window giving the appearance of three moons telescoping out—as though it had two shadows. I kept looking and tilting my head from left to right and back again. Sleepy and drunk at the sight of the moon(s), I wondered, could I really be seeing three moons? I must have caused a stir because my significant other pushed himself up from his deep sleep.

“What are you looking at,” he said, sounding a little groggy.

“The moon looks like it has two shadows,” I replied earnestly.

“Oh…I thought someone was looking inside the window.”

“Someone is—it's the moon.” I gave a small giggle. He gave a friendly grumble, got up to use the bathroom. While he was in there, I scooted over quickly to look out the screen side of the open window and saw my one moon.

We went back to sleep with no words, just the bright light of the moon keeping us safe.  But really, I knew it was three moons.