day long drip drip drip clouds to roof, through the ceiling buckets by my door
Plumber once told me that he had to remember three things.
Payday was friday.
Don’t chew your fingernails.
Water flows downhill.
Keep those three things in mind and you can succeed as a plumber.
I have been reminded of water flowing downhill for the last week or more.
Been raining so long the roof of my building is full.
Leaks, previously unknown, are making their presence known all around me.
Drip Drip Drip.
I work in the online world.
I am surrounded by cutting edge technology.
And buckets.
I pretend that the building was designed by Frank Lloyd Wright.
Wright’s buildings were famous for bad roofs.
One home owner wrote about his FLW designed house, “The roof design itself had some interesting design issues that almost guaranteed water penetration.”
On the other hand, another FLW home owner wrote about their leaky roof, “that is what happens when you leave a work of art out in the rain.”
swinging on a star take moon beams home in a jar moonlit morning hopes
The Google says that the Moon today is in a Waxing Gibbous phase. This phase is when the moon is more than 50% illuminated but not yet a Full Moon. The phase lasts round 7 days with the moon becoming more illuminated each day until the Full Moon.
It was cold and clear last night when my wife and I went for walk.
Cold for Georgia anyway.
Clear and lit by the Waxing Gibbous Moon.
Moonlight was strong enough that we cast shadows and the old song about catching moonbeams in a jar stuck in my brain.
Innocent and sweet thoughts to end the day.
When I left for work this morning that Waxing Gibbous Moon was still shining.
(When the Moon shows up the next night, the King worries that his daughter will notice. The Court Jester suggests asking the Princess how that happened when she has the Moon on a chain around her neck. The Princess replies “That is easy, silly,” she said. “When I lose a tooth, a new one grows in its place, doesn’t it?”)
Mr. Debussy’s prélude, La fille aux cheveux de lin (otherwise known as The Girl With The Flaxen Hair) was playing on the radio.
Where does this music come from?
A bad mood and crummy attitude that has been percolating inside me this week didn’t have a chance.
Like the Court Jester, I winked at the moon, “for it seemed to the Court Jester that the moon had winked at him.”
I am not sure what the difference in those things mean exactly but I am sure my good friends Chesley McNeil at WXIA or George Lessens at WZZM could explain it.
Here in Atlanta for December 17, there is 10 hours and 50 minutes of visible light.
Further up the globe in Grand Rapids, there is 10 hours and 5 minutes of visible light.
There is more light down here in the south.
But if you compare the time from sunset to astronomical twilight, Grand Rapids comes out on top with a total of 103 minutes of total twilight compared to Atlanta’s 90 minutes.
We noticed this right away after we moved down here.
The sun comes up fast.
The sun goes down fast.
I look out the window in the evening and think we have time for a walk while it is still light.
By the time we get outside, it is full dark.
Not much color to dark.
Most likely if you were looking for a color based adjective for night time, the word you come up with is inky.
But daylight.
I have as much ability in art as I do in music.
I can look and listen.
I look at the colors of the day.
Pastels done in sidewalk chalk to capture the powdery pinks and blues of morning.
The strict separation of colors in oils for the full sun of noon.
Spreading wet watercolors on a damp piece of paper for the evening.
Alice Walker writes, “I think it pisses God off if you walk by the color purple in a field somewhere and don’t notice it.”
I am not going to stop my car and get out and look at the colors in the sky.
I am not going to get out my phone and take a picture of the sky (I know it wouldn’t work anyway).
But I think God would be pissed off if I, at the very least, didn’t notice the show in the sky.
No Haiku For You 