Evening

A warm and pleasant evening, warm enough for our real windows to stay open till late, while I ponder what to write in this faux Window on my electronic desktop.

Have just about completed a panegyric for a departed friend; I will be delivering it this weekend in The City at his memorial.

The sun is just setting behind the house across the street from ours. Not a cloud in the sky. Long shadows cross our lush green lawn. A scent of jasmine is carried into my room on a light breeze. A bird in my neighbor's tree sings its song, and is answered by another.

My computer's hard drive is making worrisome noises. I can hear the noises despite the tinnitus ringing in my ear like the cicadas of summer. Speaking of cicadas, I am reminded of our trip to Monte Albán in Mexico twenty-odd years ago. Whatever those insects were, cicadas or crickets, they certainly made a din that was as loud as it was unrelenting. But, like anything else, you get used to the sound after a while.

I guess we'll be having leftovers for dinner tonight.