dwell

It is late.

I am always doing this;

waking with the sun,

staying up with the moon.

The water rushing outside

my window is not the

Tuolumne River.

I pull out my sleeping bag

and pretend

that I am Out still

beneath the approving stars.

sleepyhead

There is no real reason for me to be awake right now. I guess I enjoy the silence that this time of night brings; I can only hear the hum of my laptop and the crinkle of leaves under the paws of raccoons just outside my window.

The reality that I won't be working at Julian Jr. High has settled. I'm moving on. I've applied to other jobs, but without all the gung-ho I had for JJH. I must continue to look forward. Until then, I will keep working at Nomad Ventures. Too many of my friends do not have jobs. I know I am fortunate to have one.

Also, just so you know, sometimes I laugh because I have a blog. Fifteen years ago that word didn't exist. Blog.

As for the photograph: I took that (while driving) on my way up to Idyllwild via the 243, just after passing under the 10. I think my camera has an infatuation with train tracks. They're so full of symbology (only a real word if you've seen The Boondock Saints).

It's nearly 1am. I'd best get my sleepface on.

Rain in October

3:38am. It starts to rain; I always wake when it starts to rain in the night. My window is ever open so that I never miss such miracles.

Smiling, I think about how the wind changed today and how a small wisp of cloud told me to expect this weather. A young girl in my Oak cabin had run up to me today and said, "Mr. Jeff said that we might get some dry lightning tomorrow!" I had smiled and replied that Mr. Jeff (my internship supervisor) knew how to read the weather well; I had also noted the clouds and their meaning.

The rain continues. I close my eyes again and picture the girls in their cabin being lulled to sleep by the water. One girl turns on her flashlight: it's bright! *CRRRRBBOOOOOM* I can hear the thunder as it echoes from one end of this valley to the other.

Jeff was right about the lightning.

Adrenaline rushes in, opening my eyes in anticipation for the next flash. When it comes, it comes from behind my room (which faces West). The storm will be quick tonight.

It's 4:10am. Tomorrow the earth will smell sweet, the bird will sing with appreciation, and I will tell that girl, "See? Jeff was right... except for the 'dry' part!"