Aug. 6th, 2004
Okay, no, not a music post (although I requested this song and I adore it. Everyone should listen to it nownownow.).
I'm done with some layouts and I'm going to go shower, then come back to the computer and write for a couple of hours. Then I'll fall into bed, wake up around 1pm, watch AMC while I eat, pack and get dressed around 2, go to my driving lesson at 3 and leave for the cottage around 4.
It's nice to have a plan. :)
I'm done with some layouts and I'm going to go shower, then come back to the computer and write for a couple of hours. Then I'll fall into bed, wake up around 1pm, watch AMC while I eat, pack and get dressed around 2, go to my driving lesson at 3 and leave for the cottage around 4.
It's nice to have a plan. :)
I'm freezing my ass off.
Aug. 6th, 2004 11:54 pmGreetings from the cottage.
It's something like 10C out there (ie: fucking cold). I'm wearing jeans, a long-sleeved shirt and a fleece sweater. I'm still cold.
My dad and brother are doing renovations here with a handyman guy -- they're redoing the gyprock, putting up new bedroom doors, etc. As such, they have turned off the electricity to my bedroom and my brother's bedroom.
I am, therefore, sitting at the dining room table, listening to music on my headphones, because my laptop doesn't really hold a charge (so I can't sit in my room and do anything), and because the handyman is sleeping on the couch in the living room, so I should be quiet.
But that's not why I'm posting.
I'm posting because I stood outside tonight and looked into infinity.
My parents' cottage is on a small lake (no leeches, a sandy bottom, no motorboats), and the back of it leads out on to a private beach, which happens to face west. The sunsets are incredible.
But stepping out on to the sand tonight, I looked up at the sky and saw nothing but the Big Dipper at first glance. And then, beyond the Big Dipper, and all over the sky, I could see the rest of the Milky Way. City life has the advantage that when you come out to the country, you're awestruck by the night sky. Such was the case with me tonight.
I stared up, up, into the sky, getting lost in tiny dots of light that are billions of miles away. I've never felt safe while looking at the stars; I tend to feel small, insignificant and off-balance. Tonight, there was none of that. Tonight, I stood out on the beach, gazing for several minutes, enjoying the sparkles in the sky, not feeling remotely small. I felt large, like the universe was at my disposal.
I stared up, looking for shooting stars (because the Perseids are going to really be very visible soon), and noticed a greenish sort of glow (I use that term loosely) off in the distance. By the northern horizon, a sort of green/blue glow hung over the trees, and I realized I was probably looking at a very toned down view of the Northern Lights. The best time to see them here is closer to winter, and later at night, but it made me smile. (And I thought of you,
moireach. Some associations die hard, I guess. :))
After about fifteen minutes of enduring the cold night air, I went back inside, feeling strong, feeling good, feeling grateful that I can gaze upon such beauty virtually any time I'd like to.
I'm staying until Sunday morning, at least, although I might only come back on Tuesday morning. We'll see. This whole country air thing is great for getting one tired. I'm wiped and am going to bed soon.
It's something like 10C out there (ie: fucking cold). I'm wearing jeans, a long-sleeved shirt and a fleece sweater. I'm still cold.
My dad and brother are doing renovations here with a handyman guy -- they're redoing the gyprock, putting up new bedroom doors, etc. As such, they have turned off the electricity to my bedroom and my brother's bedroom.
I am, therefore, sitting at the dining room table, listening to music on my headphones, because my laptop doesn't really hold a charge (so I can't sit in my room and do anything), and because the handyman is sleeping on the couch in the living room, so I should be quiet.
But that's not why I'm posting.
I'm posting because I stood outside tonight and looked into infinity.
My parents' cottage is on a small lake (no leeches, a sandy bottom, no motorboats), and the back of it leads out on to a private beach, which happens to face west. The sunsets are incredible.
But stepping out on to the sand tonight, I looked up at the sky and saw nothing but the Big Dipper at first glance. And then, beyond the Big Dipper, and all over the sky, I could see the rest of the Milky Way. City life has the advantage that when you come out to the country, you're awestruck by the night sky. Such was the case with me tonight.
I stared up, up, into the sky, getting lost in tiny dots of light that are billions of miles away. I've never felt safe while looking at the stars; I tend to feel small, insignificant and off-balance. Tonight, there was none of that. Tonight, I stood out on the beach, gazing for several minutes, enjoying the sparkles in the sky, not feeling remotely small. I felt large, like the universe was at my disposal.
I stared up, looking for shooting stars (because the Perseids are going to really be very visible soon), and noticed a greenish sort of glow (I use that term loosely) off in the distance. By the northern horizon, a sort of green/blue glow hung over the trees, and I realized I was probably looking at a very toned down view of the Northern Lights. The best time to see them here is closer to winter, and later at night, but it made me smile. (And I thought of you,
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After about fifteen minutes of enduring the cold night air, I went back inside, feeling strong, feeling good, feeling grateful that I can gaze upon such beauty virtually any time I'd like to.
I'm staying until Sunday morning, at least, although I might only come back on Tuesday morning. We'll see. This whole country air thing is great for getting one tired. I'm wiped and am going to bed soon.