John Burridge

November is over a third of the way through and the dark season is upon us.  For real this time, although the ten days in early September when the smoke from the forest fires blotted out the sun were bad enough.  At least we can be outside without too much fear of breathing unhealthy particles... oh, wait, COVID-19.  Oh well.   

The damper, colder weather has driven the cats into a grudging acceptance that a dog lives here.  Some days are more grudging than others.  The other day, Cicero was sleeping on Mark while Aoife rested next to him; Mark slowly shifted his body until Cicero was resting, if not on, then at least next to, Aofie.  We think at this point Cicero realized how much body heat Aoife puts out.  I've noticed he's less likely to retreat to the bedroom window when Aoife enters since; and recently, Cicero ventured into the back yard -- something that hasn't happened since the Spring Equinox.

Mark and I notice how early the sun sets these days because all of the acres of the dog park we take Aoife are in shadow by 4, and the sun slides behind the hills by 4:15, and you can see Mars, Jupiter, and Saturn by 4:40, and by 5:00 it's too dark to see the Chuck-It Balls we fling.  If Aoife didn't have a mostly white head, we wouldn't be able to see her, either.   We used to be able to stay until 8:30.

The dog park hasn't turned into a total mud pit yet, but I expect the Big Storm that's supposed to hit us Friday the 13th will change all of that.  (The fist-sized gravel the city used to fill in some of the larger foxholes the dogs dug last spring is already dispersing into new geologic depressions.)

Smokey is more grudging than Cicero.  At least he has the next-door neighbors to run to (and they love him, so it's a win-win situation).  He's still likely to make a dash for the window when Aoife enters the bedroom, but there have been a few times where he's (noisily) tolerated being sniffed by the dog.   Aoife understands that the cats are part of our family, and unless she's previously wound up, she'll slowly creep forward to sniff them (instead of lunging at them) in an earnest attempt to initiate play.  

Smokey and Cicero had been sleeping in the garage over the Summer, but they've worked up enough courage to begin sleeping in our bedroom (and waking us up at 4 AM to be let out).  Sometimes Aofie sleeps in our bed -- when I'm feeling like indulging her -- but I find I sleep better when she's on the couch.  

I took these photos last November.  We tend to get grey, foggy days in November, which often turn the sunrises into smudges of increasing light.  Some mornings are greyer than others, which results in no distinct sunrise.  Other days, the sun rises like a faintly glowing perl in a field of silver light.   On those latter days, sunlight weakly shining behind groves and copses throws bars of shadow westward.


There'd been enough times driving that I'd wanted to stop the car to photograph the fog and shadow play that I knew I wanted to head out one Saturday morning and see what kinds of images I could get.  Mark went along, too.


This particular Saturday wasn't as foggy and overcast as the previous work days, but I managed to get a few shots that I was happy with.  I had hoped to catch the shadows in the fog, but caught instead how the sunlight was shining through the trees.


I didn't bring my tripod, which Mark was probably grateful for.


Apparently, I took some accidental photos.  I vaguely remember playing with a black-and-white setting on the camera, but I don't remember these particular shots.   I think I was hurrying to catch up to Mark, who had kept walking while I was trying to get the perfect shot. They're very arty.


I like the foggy days for the sense of mystery they bring, and the muffling blanket of silence that drapes over everything.  On they days where the balance of sunlight and fog is just right, I like the way trees and fences and flagpoles and flying birds have their masses extend into some shadow dimension -- as if your sense of vision had expanded into a hitherto unforeseen direction in space and time.


When the grey days (and rain) extend to weeks, all I want to do is hibernate.


On the gym front:  Went to the gym Thursday and did the new aerobic routine.  I've managed to put together a gym mix, which I need to tweak a little because some songs are just a little too fast.  Alas, the streaming service I use doesn't list the beats per minute, so I'm having to do things by ear.  It's weird not being able to hear anyone else or clinking of weights with my head earbuds... even without music playing not much outside noise gets in.  I'm thinking I might alternate earbud-free days just so I don't feel so anti-social.

 The Friday after Thanksgiving, I managed to get some photographs of the Moon, Saturn, Venus and Jupiter.


We had some computer problems shortly afterward which prevented a proper download of the photos from my camera.  (The camera can do some wireless transfers to a mobile device, but I noticed the image quality was vastly inferior to using a cable to directly copy image files to a hard drive.)


At the end of a day of decorating my folks' Christmas tree, I excused myself and went out to the southern slope of the hill where they live.


The crescent moon was out, but none of the other planets was visible.  I was glad that I got out a little early, because it allowed me to find a good spot to set up the tripod.   Then I waited and tried not to fiddle around with the zoom too much (which requires re-focusing).


I did wish that I'd managed to have a clear sky several nights prior when the Moon would have been much closer to Venus and Jupiter, but the Moon that Friday made it easier to find Saturn.






Writing: I got out of the house Monday and edited a long non-fiction piece that's been rattling around.  It needs some cleaning up, and I should decide if I'm going to post it in installments to this blog or if I'm just going to push it out to Amazon or something.


Gym report:  went to the gym Monday and did the new routine.  I allowed myself a ten day break; the last time I was at the gym was Friday, December 20.  I got some earbuds over the break and tried them out; I have to say that not hearing nihilistic music about some dude's co-dependent relationship and general mess of a life was kind of nice.

Word Count:  Um... I've been doing a lot of editing lately.  Actually, I've been fighting a stuffy nose and cold, so make that some editing.  Thursday morning I typed maybe 300 new words of on a fairy tale.  I realized that I'd had a two-dimentional princess, and I need to figure out more of her personality and agency.   I've received a critique on a short ghost story from the Wordos and I need to address some of the confusion caused by the piece (surprise, John confused the readers).  I've also just submitted two pieces of flash to the table (one's a romance... although I suppose both could be) and we'll see what sorts of critiques get generated.

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 We've had morning temperatures in the twenties, so the grass, deck, trees and roads have been frosted.  When I looked out this morning, I saw the gazing globe's frost had melted on the sunny side.






 Smokey decided he wanted to be in the picture.  (Photos of reflected cat butt deleted.)







 Images like this make me think of science fiction stories set on worlds that have become tidally locked with the local star so that one side is always hot, and the other is cold.  Someone once called worlds like this "riboon worlds" because there would be only a narrow ribbon of surface with habitable temperatures.





 Oh, yeah.  A pumpkin moon.







 The shots that I took from above came out looking like Saturn.