Thinks happen: Yesterday in 2000

Yesterday in 2000
Wednesday, August 23, 2000

One of the neighbor’s mini-dogs was turned loose for a back yard rant long before five this morning waking me abruptly, The dog’s breed is somewhere between a wind up toy and dust bunny. With no discernable motivation, it just barks.

Morning was still somewhere in Kentucky I figured. There wasn’t enough light coming through the high east windows yet to suggest shadows on the textured white ceiling. This time of day belonged to owls and bats and coyotes. The songbirds still slept. There were no distant train whistles, no dripping faucets; just the mechanical yapping of the neighbor’s toy dog.

Suddenly ushered into the world of the awake I can seldom resume sleeping even if only an hour had passed since I had originally drifted off. Usually I just resignedly begin my day. Lying in bed and trying to downshift back to sleep-speed usually proves to expend more energy than was restored during what sleep I did get. Then when I do finally rise, I am too tired and sluggish to read the day’s site plan. My days are often constructed with no space between sleep and activity. I usually wake with some project on my agenda and I hit the floor running, sometimes even forgetting to dress.

But this morning was so pleasant. I rationalized that just lying still and trying to see the ceiling seemed a good way to begin this day. I considered reading but that would mean turning on a lamp. Ruining this gentle, morning-cool darkness seemed a sin parallel to destroying a dolphin or felling an ancient redwood or penciling over a Degas pastel.

A transparent breeze floated the north window curtains away from the wall. Their billows were gentle clouds of almost light. There in the sightless room blind slumber still huddled in a corner trembling from the rude dog alarm which was still ringing.

Then the dog fell silent. Sleep and I joined in a mutual pact to find morning our own way. When I woke again, the beautiful night had drifted on to the distant west and proper morning sunlight streaked through the room.

A few minutes later I had a brush full of ceiling paint, touching up a spot just above the bed.