Nocturne

Lughnasa                                                                          College Moon

It has been a full week so far and we’re only to Thursday. The front porch looks so good, painted and new cedar flooring, steps. New windows on the shed and it gets painted, too, probably tomorrow. (note. these were done by our handyman, Dave Scott.) The firepit’s repaired. The bookshelves are empty. The Rav4 had it’s oil changed and tires rotated. Learned that it will not tow much at all, 1,500 pounds, so that’s not gonna work for the live stock trailer. Picked raspberries and tomatoes. Made chicken noodle soup. Worked out a couple of times. Translated several lines of De Bello Gallico. And all this while retaining my status as a retired person.

Glad it’s quiet. Silent night. Silence is holy in my world, so holy night, too.

Down, In

Lughnasa                                                                          College Moon

Something I haven’t done since Tucson. Meditate. Thought I would, but, like every other Journal workshop I’ve collected and acted on the insights, then shelved the process.

Got back at it this afternoon for a bit. Had an interesting interior journey. I walked into an ancient building made of stone, maybe a castle, and inside it I found a spiral stair case, stone, that went straight down into the earth. There were no rooms around it. A pit the size of the stair case was dug, then the stair case was built inside it. The stair case went down hundreds of feet and ended in a domed room with a mosaic roof, stone walls and benches around its circular walls.

In the center was a holy well, the water bubbling gently. I knelt before it, why I don’t know. Tilting over my body fell into the well and swam out of the well into the deep ocean.

The deep ocean was the cosmos itself. At one point I feared finding my way back, would I be consumed, depersonalized in this vast oneness. The Brahman, I suppose. No, it came to me, no matter where I was in the wholeness, I could be no other than me.

Sure enough, when I swam back I found the well easily and leaped out of it, drying before I landed on the stone floor. There were others there now, all in capes. We acknowledged each other, then I climbed the stairs, went out of the ancient building into the room where I sat.

A Milestone

Lughnasa                                                                                College Moon

Well. A milestone. Every bookshelf except the one beside my computer, stacked with books I use frequently, has been cleared, sorted and boxed. I thought I would be done in late August, early September works, too.

(New Harmony as conceived by Robert Dale Own in 1833)

As I passed these last books from shelf to box, new arrangements for them cropped up, new reading projects and writing projects, too. I have, for example, a collection of historical documents about New Harmony, Indiana. They are records of the Harmonist era 1814-1824 and documents from the Robert Owens era soon after that. There are, too, maps, Indiana Historical Society monographs, photographs and notes of my own journeys there.

(stone labyrinth in current day New Harmony)

New Harmony features in my novel, The Last Druid, and continues to interest me, both as the site of two utopian communities, one very successful, the other a successful failure and as a present day historical site with an emphasis on spirituality. Reading through those would definitely spark something.

There are, too, a collection of books, stacked up on each other, concerning the west and Colorado. These are the first tools I’ll use to get up to speed on our new home and the historical context that made it what it is now.

Now I move to file sorting, magazine culling. After that, objet d’arts.

Wide-eyed Amazement

Lughnasa                                                                           College Moon

The winds howled last night like a winter storm. It’s wet and 50 degrees here in Andover. The Denver forecast has the possibility of snow showers on Thursday. Phoenix had 3-5 inches of rain and streets flooded. September is a month of transition. California would like a transition with an astounding 58% of the state in the exceptional drought category, the highest. 95% of the state, that’s 95% is in severe drought and 82% in extreme drought.

Intensity:

  • D0 – Abnormally Dry
  • D1 – Moderate Drought
  • D2 – Severe Drought
  • D3 – Extreme Drought
  • D4 – Exceptional Drought

We’re a big country with a lot of natural variation in weather. That’s true. But there are climate change signals in a lot of these extremes.  Even our cool weather, caused by the stuck polar vortex, may have its root cause in the melting of Arctic sea ice.

No, not another climate rant here. Just a bit of wide-eyed amazement at the differences in this nation’s weather.