Sunday, February 4, 2018


These February days are slowly getting longer but not nearly enough. It still gets dark too early and daylight is quickly lost in mountain shadows.

Two nights ago it was frigid, a chilling 12 degrees (Fahrenheit). Last night was much warmer, but a wild wind whipped around -  singing like a phantom chorus through the treetops, wailing in distant unseen places.
And then the rain began.
Intense dampness, as always, prevails.

I've been having disturbing dreams. Of people long dead whom I love. They want to contact me but, try as they might, there is no connection. I wander through a somber dreamscape of darkness trying to find them but they remain elusive.
I hate these dreams. They don't frighten me. But they are unsettling.

My dreams are always dark now, reflecting my waking hours. Enough said.

I'm in one of my melancholy Magyar moods. Which only serves to make me annoyingly intriguing (he says with a grim sarcastic smile).

Despite having an enormous amount of important things to do, I baked a cake last night. Then sat - eating cake and drinking coffee - while watching a YouTube video of Swan Lake.

And remembering the very first "live" performance of Swan Lake that I ever saw: one magical long-ago February night at the Los Angeles Music Center. It was the ABT (American Ballet Theater) - during the golden era when Lucia Chase was still alive.

But I'm being boring.....

How about some visuals?

The sunrise a few days ago - I can't remember exactly when. Possibly Thursday? This is a view from the back porch.

The full moon - the "blue moon".
These photos were taken just before dawn, when the tired moon was drifting towards the west.

Midday fog on the front part of my property. This was taken on Friday.


  1. That first picture couldn't be any more perfect....what a great blog header that would make for your blog perhaps. I love the whole feel of it. I actually enjoy foggy days, there is something intriguing about them. I just listened to a live performance on my public radio station of the Philadelphia Orchestra performing as series of Schubert compositions...on a over cast rainy snowy afternoon. Enjoying the quite before the game.

    1. Hey, I'm so glad the Eagles won!!! I would do a happy dance, but I'm too tired and cold.
      I really love fog - and I missed it when I lived in Texas (no fog in west TX). The fog is really mysterious here in the TN hills - it drifts in and out quickly and unexpectedly.

  2. I forgot to even go out to look at the moon. Your pictures are nice. We've had a lot of fog lately but today was a beautiful sunshiny day.

    1. I was glad that we finally had a clear night so I could see the moon.
      I didn't know there was fog in your area of TX. Fog was extremely rare in far west TX where I lived.

  3. Your dreams sound haunting. What kind of cake. sounds good.

    1. I've been having some unusually haunting dreams lately. I didn't go into very many details here, because I thought it would be boring. I'm glad you appreciated it.

      It's a white cake, with white icing - and it's really good!

  4. Great moon shots, but I'm afraid that fog would creep me out. Ya, half the time I'm scared of my own shadow.

    1. I really love the fog. It nourishes my Gothic cravings. Especially in the middle of the night when the coyotes are howling.

      Would it confirm the fact that I'm crazy if I told you that I have sometimes gone to sleep with the front door unlocked?
      Danger is my business.

  5. Frigid nights. Haunting dreams. Foggy days.
    Moody post. No wonder. *hugs*

    1. The haunting, mournful atmosphere is always an inspiration for me - especially the fog. But I'm growing weary of the cold and dampness.
      I'll gladly take warm hugs.

  6. Jon, as you know I too suffer from anxiety and panic attacks. Your strength and artistically positive attitude help me. Thanks. The photos are magnificent, but so are the the simple rituals you report of cake and coffee. I too have dreams of loved ones who have died. I dream of reaching up to hold my parents' hands. I dream of friends who left too soon. When we dream we dream of time entangled --the present is defined less well than the waking one. I feel the connection is there, even without words, and I am so glad I can wake from it. People we've known and hopefully loved, their influence never ends. I too love the fog --as in your magnificent photos-- because it takes us out of the ordinary and into a place remarkably receptive to imagination.

  7. Geo - I can relate to everything you've said in this comment. My emotional strength has gotten me through many, many very difficult times - but lately I feel my strength and "positive" attitude waning, to the point where I'm often merely hanging on by a fragile thread. I usually feign positivity on my blog and I seldom mention deeply personal problems - which seem to be increasing without mercy. But writing does help. It's a beneficial emotional outlet.

    I dream of numerous people who are no longer with me - - but for some strange reason, I dream of my mother almost every night. I mostly tell her all the things that are going on in my life - as I used to when she was alive. She was a good listener - and, I suppose, still is...
    Dreams reflect so much of our subconsciousness.

    I love to photograph the wonders of nature - even if they are only those limited to my back yard. And I always enjoy watching the fog, which never fails to mesmerize me.

    Anxiety attacks have plagued me since I was in my teens - my father's violence and abuse was the root cause. Strange that I still get many years later...
    Anyway, I truly appreciate your input.

  8. We don't get fog very often here, but being on the water, we had a lot of foggy days in Baltimore. I loved them. There's something so other-worldly about fog. So mysterious and eerie. It's all good, until you have to drive in it.

    With all of the fog, wetness, and cold you've been having, it's no wonder your spirits are dragging. You need some bright sunshine, cowboy. I'd send you some, but it's raining here today, too. Maybe tomorrow?

    I dream of my dead loved ones almost every night, too. Even my grandmother, whose been gone since 1960. (I always apologize for not visiting her sooner.) I find those dreams soothing. Even dreamworld hugs from long-lost friends are better than no hugs from them at all.

  9. Hm, cake and views like this - doesn't sound too bad. I am aware the reality is a lot colder though, and gloomier. Depression is wretched, and nightmares are wretched. I am truly sorry that you have to go through this, and I hope that in a curious way your dreams of your mother are comforting to you. Take care.


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