Tonight was one of those moments that stick with you. After taking a short walk around the neighborhood after dark, the kid and I stretched out in the back of our pickup, gazing up at a surprisingly full starry sky. Which one of those stars was the sun to a race of beings we may never know? What do they look like? How do they communicate? You could just see the wheels turning and the excitement in his eyes.
I think the memories are there to be made, we just have to grab them and not let go.
What happened to all the breathtaking sunsets? As I was admiring tonight's sparse, wispy pink clouds, it occurred to me that my "sunset standards" have been dramatically lowered. I can't remember the last time when a sunset made stand in a slackjawed stupor -- the kind where the clouds ripple and burn with a fiery orange glow, slowly simmering into the deep blue, rising night sky.
Just started reading This Is Your Brain on Music: The Science of a Human Obsession by Daniel Levitin. Although it's hard to give a thumbs up or down after just a handful of pages, it's certainly interesting so far. For what promises to be a "scientific" book, Levitin has an accessible writing style. I'm particularly interested in any insight into why my brain seems to be so wired to music. Ever since the advent of the iPod -- which gave me pinpoint control over my musical environment -- music in some form illustrates and enlivens my waking hours. It's become hard to work in silence; although on the flip side, I now find it hard to fall asleep listening to music.
The calm night begins to stir Black sky fills with violent charge Lightning rolls in blinding succession I move to cover But it is too late The electricity scampers around my feet Lifting me, throwing me A plaintive groan Blackness
(This was based on a dream that woke me up at 3am this morning)
Middle aged? A strange concept for me. Perhaps working in a college town helps retain a younger, college mentality, but I'll freely admit the difficulty in grasping my entry into "late-30-somethingness." I'm not worried about growing older. I'm confounded that I don't feel older. Forty is right around the corner, and I'm yet to feel like the "grown-up" my parents and their cohorts appeared to be at my age.