"All cats are grey in the dark," so says a proverb. Still thinking about moon shadows, it occurred to me that the silver-washed night without color must be the closest I'll ever come to seeing the world as Bessie Anne sees it, since I'm told that dogs only see light and dark in shades of grey. I once was given directions to a friend's cabin in a distant rural region. Delayed, I arrived in the area well after sundown. The last and most critical landmark on the narrow paved road was the red house on the right, where I would find a dirt road, little more than a path, on the left. I drove many miles back and forth for several hours; there are no red houses in the dark.
With the exception of the animals, I lead an unstructured life now. If I choose to spend (another) day reading, I can (and did). There is something in my nature that requires a deadline as an impetus to action because I tend to procrastinate until the last minute when an event looms on the horizon. It may just be that rule of physics that says a thing at rest tends to stay at rest and a thing in motion tends to stay in motion, but I get a lot more done if I wait until the deadline approaches. It could be an inborn competitiveness even when I'm betting against myself, wagering that I can beat the clock. And it's possible I'm just plain lazy. At any rate, I still have a lot to do before my friend's arrival on Sunday. But I'm thinking about it!
A wind storm blew in last night, howling around the house. Not only has it shaken many of the dead leaves from the trees, it has blown most of those leaves onto someone else's property. I knew that would happen if I just waited long enough! There are black, black clouds massing over the mountains to the east this morning. When they marshall forces and come this way, their rain will wash the truck. Ah, the joys of procrastination.