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November 20th 2009

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    Can't pretend I am a big fan of getting up in the middle of the night to watch meteors.   The moment of sunset or sunrise, or the new moon in a clear sky provides sufficient sense of compass for my artless soul.   Otherwise I stand there in slippers while others yell "there's one!"  And I say "where?".

   Nor have I recently made the late night journey from the room where I sleep to the open spaces of night.  Last time it was many miles away in winter time.  Mercury set well below the freezing mark and no coffee, because apparently coffee does not keep a body warm and it is coffee that keeps one from going back to sleep when all the excitement is passed.

    

    

    It was the same with that irregular sea level phenomena the "green flash".  I have been there on the beach at dusk, and I have heard the adventure of "there it is!" but I must have blinked.

    My friend, the Close Mockingbird, has devotion to those things that move in the sky.  He'll face the morning sun as it rises, and he'll watch the sun as it sets.  And he'll sing one of his more strident songs to call the faithful.  

    In the morning often he wakes me and I grumble at him.  So  I imagine he has a low opinion of my own connection to the world he understands.  And perhaps one of these days I might put on slippers, go outside in the middle of the night, stand beside his cedar, point to the sky and shout "there's one!"  Just as loudly as I can.    

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tim candler

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