November 21: Light in the darkness

facing down the darkness

at the end of the street

hazy crescent moon

November 15: Dark early

Darkness by 5.

Hoping I don’t meet a skunk

on my way inside.

November 11: Queen of the Night

Streetlight’s out.

Surprised at the front door

by Cassiopeia.

October 27: Rising wind

Wind rising with dark--
the one tree with all its leaves
roars like a waterfall.

October 17: Schoodic

Arrived in the dark

we hear the sea's dark pulse

glory in all the stars

September 9: Fall in the air

Overhead in the dark
the sounds of geese flying.
We close the windows.

February 27: Bus trip home

Another time on a bus

I envied a blind man reading

the whole dark drive.

Posted with Blogsy

January 9: Hibernation

Reading about
hibernating bears
my eyelids grow heavy.

December 5: Wicked dark

Even in this dark
I can tell
those are white pines.

December 4: Christmas lights make the long night easier to bear

Through the darkness,
haze of red and green lights--
neighbor's tree.

November 25: Monday

Darkness falls early--

feels like

I just woke up.

November 14: It's so dark so early now

"Marketplace" on the radio
as I drive home from the gym.
Starless sky anticlimactic.

November 7: Dark so early

Lights of a barge

on the black bay.

Last pages of a good thriller.

March 27: Crows at dusk

I left the house at dusk, and as I walked to the car, heard a large flock of crows cawing loudly up on the mountain. The birds were not visible. What they were yelling at was not visible. Just a clamor in the rising dark on a dreary evening.

Twilight on the mountain.
Calling of unseen crows.
Anxiety settles in.

December 6: Power lines

Driving on a dark country road...

Power lines lit
by headlights: a silver web
stretching for miles.

November 14: Lights out

Leaving a friend's studio tonight, the porch light was out. And the two streetlights facing her building were out. With the new moon, the street seemed profoundly dark. It wasn't until I got to my car that I could see the sky was clear and starry above the roofs, and there, right above my car, shining Jupiter.

Night street so dark
only a planet shines,
too distant to light my way.

November 13: New Moon

The new moon must be exerting its dark power on this bleak afternoon, when energy ebbs and dusk falls long before the work day's ended. Satisfied with what I got accomplished today and buoyed by rich chocolate pound cake from Megunticook Market, my own spirits are high despite the weather. But I look out the window and think of a friend who's going through a rough time right now in a relationship, and can well imagine how this landscape must seem to echo her mood.

Rain, tangled branches.
A heartsick woman
holds in her tears.

November 7: Brisk

A cold wind has been gathering momentum this afternoon as the first wintry storm moves in. Tonight we're expecting snow, rain, and sleet, possibly coastal flooding, with a stiff gale to stir things up and knock it all around some. It's just after 5:00 p.m. and, dusk long past, the darkness sits heavy outside the window. I sit here alone, bracing myself to open the door and step out into the chilling energy of a stormy night.

Cold snap
a slap in the face.
Restless in the dark.

July 1: Summer night

This morning, still in pajamas, I water the hanging plants, letting the dewy grass wet my bare feet. The neighborhood is quiet except for one robin singing from the coolness of the trees...

There was more action out there last night after twilight crept in and the heavy burden of hot, humid air lifted slightly: pack of kids playing volleyball in the neighbors' back yard grew louder as it grew darker and harder to see the ball. Streetlights came on. Cats came out to prowl the sidewalks and yards. Our cat, staying cool in the kitchen window, was fascinated by cats howling at each other in the street in front of our house. We joined her at the window, watching as the two cats made unearthly noises, circled each other, and then seemed to reach a standoff--after which, one cat rolled submissively in the gravel, the other stalked off to huddle under my car. Above the lawn, a firefly blinked on and off like a warning beacon.

But now another unusually hot day is underway. The buds of the day lilies swell. A squirrel performs its morning ablutions on the fence post in full view of a window where the cat often sits. She can't be bothered to come see. In the shadowy living room, she's scratching at a patch of sun on the floor as if it were a living thing, as if to draw it closer.

Is it love or war?
Two cats made loud by heat, dark,
face off in the street.

December 22: Long, dark night

Winter Solstice: the shortest day of the year. From here on out, light will linger a little longer each afternoon. But tonight is the longest night, and it's going to be a dark one. Already the few stars still visible are hazy behind a sheen of clouds. And the moon is just over 4% full--for all practical purposes, a new moon. This plunge into the depths of darkness will make it that much more joyful to emerge into the light tomorrow, with perhaps a little snowfall to really boost our holiday spirits.

The year's longest night,
cold and dark too. Come closer,
honey. Warm me up.