Tuesday, June 14, 2005

a taste of a day

The sun is melting into the sky today, the light growing thin and colorless the higher it rises into the heat of the day. The houses and trees are in silhouette, no detail visible, except their shapes, and those in sharp contrast of black against the pale. There are no shades of gray at all it seems, only dark, and light.

The infection in my head runs the same course, either I am completely out, or completely awake, there is no gentle waking or quiet falling asleep. Coughs wrack, and I fear I will keep my partner awake. I know that I have time to rest later, and he doesn't, so I let the sunrise coax me from slumber and remember my routine.

In reward, a splash of rose on the horizon reminds me that it is when things seem most clear that we sometimes get surprised. There may be color to this day after all.

Even as I begin to close this page, insert the date and move to more productive projects, the morning dove and songbirds remind me to use all of my senses. Light or dark, hot or cool, those are easy. Melodious, fragrant? Harder. But the hardest, and thus most interesting, is how does the day taste? Today it is clouded with the salty taste in my head, diluted with fresh water, "natural" (from a bottle?), and soon coffee. Bitter, beautiful coffee. And now, it is full light and the day has arrived.

No comments: