The last day of summer, I wake too early in the dark. Dawn is slow in coming. Fog. Fog is not a summer phenomenon where I live. Odd, this. I, too, am foggy. I continue to drink from the morning's pot of coffee. Silver, gray light.
I found this image on a website that posts a painting a day, Old Paint. Joseph Désiré Court, Woman Lying on a Divan, 1829
I thought to go to the beach today to see what summer's end was like, but I am living badly. I saw a glint of metal in my bald driver's side front tire. It was the shine of the steel radial belt come through. I doubt that I want to try getting to the beach and back on it, not because I'm afraid it will blow but because I do not want to change a tire. I haven't the energy or concentration just now. Still, there is something mighty strong pulling me to see what happens there today. If I stay, I will need to work around the house, in the yard, and if I don't do that, I will feel a wasting of the day. I do not need that guilt. Maybe taking a chance on that tire is a better bet.
No comments:
Post a Comment