....and overnight - subtly, as if not to be noticed - August arrived.
Late on Tuesday, just at dusk, thunderstorms began blowing in. I ran outside to close the windows on the car - - wearing nothing but my underwear and cowboy boots (I added that solely for cheap visual effect).
When I glanced up at the sky I was aghast (yes, aghast) at how dramatic the clouds looked. Massive thunderheads were eerily illuminated by the setting sun.
Naturally, I ran inside and grabbed my El Cheapo digital camera. Despite the fact that it was nearly dark and lightning was zapping unnervingly close, I managed to get a few shots.
It looked much more impressive in real, but I suppose my efforts are sufficient.
I didn't notice until after I took the first photo that the rising moon is visible between the clouds.
I also never realized how many mosquito bites one can incur while standing outside in your skivvies.
The first three pics were taken in the back "yard" at the edge of the forest.
The fourth (above) is a view from the front.
So here I am, long after midnight, on Thursday - - the first of August:
mild, humid, blissfully lonely. The lightning bugs have dwindled to a paltry few. The forest is alive with the incessant sound of katydids.
Owls occasionally call from nearby treetops. I love to hear them. And a faraway chorus of wild dogs howl and yelp as they meander through the midnight hours.
The dogs sound different from the coyotes - who make demonic, unearthly shrieks and wails.
Just another insignificant summer night - where a thousand random thoughts weave restlessly through the dark, isolated passages of my mind.....
If you saw the isolated place where I live you'd wonder why I chose to be here. If you knew how creepy it is at night, you'd give me big points for bravery.
The first few weeks were the most intimidating. I wasn't used to the penetrating darkness, or the unnerving forest sounds. Or the fact that any semblance of human assistance was far away.
I'm alone. With my cats. And my rampantly acute imagination. The long, inhospitable hours between dusk and dawn are filled with the unholy possibilities of marauding murders, restless ghosts, and inhuman abstractions in search of vulnerability.
As a child, my imagination was delicious. It is even more so now - with the sophisticated additions of adulthood.
So what am I getting at? Hell if I know. I was merely exercising my mediocre way with words.
Oh, yea. A spooky night.
After existing nearly two years in this place (I moved here in November, 2014) I am completely used to it. The lonely, isolated nighttime hours never bother me. I occasionally venture outside at night. I leave the shades up on my windows. I have even been known to leave a door unlocked now and then.
Insanity prevails here - - not bravery.
But - despite my feigned fearlessness - there are times when raw reality hits me and I'm afraid. Only momentarily, but afraid nevertheless.
Last night was spooky.
I was writing in bed, working on my nearly-completed children's book. It was a warm, clear, quiet, completely calm night.
Just before midnight the lights began to flicker. Then they blinked off.....on.....off.....on. Off. Power failure.
Everything went black. And when I say black, I mean pitch black. Words can hardly express the profound depth of darkness in this remote place. I was completely unprepared.
As if on cue (I am not exaggerating), a pack of coyotes started hooting and howling and wandered up the slope to my house. They surrounded the place and seemingly taunted me with their eerie inhuman yelps and jeers.
It was really unnerving. I wasn't dressed. Couldn't find my boots. Couldn't find a flashlight. As I groped and wandered around, bashing into things and doing a bad Helen Keller imitation, my imagination was in overdrive.
What could have caused a power failure tonight? There were no storms, no wind. No nothing. My mind suddenly conjured visions of In Cold Blood....and Helter Skelter. What if the wires were deliberately cut - and murderous maniacs were outside, intent on getting in?
I finally found the flashlight and managed to put on some clothes. I lit two candles in the kitchen, put batteries in a transistor radio, and grabbed my cell phone.
The coyotes eventually left but I still heard weird noises near the back porch - which is nearly on the edge of the forest.
Abandoning fear, I took my flashlight and gun (hell yes - I'm armed) and went outside. The darkness was beyond black - no moon, no nothing. The first thing I ran into was a big spider web (a repeat of what I did the other day).
With flashlight, pistol, and remnants of the web I pushed through damp, waist-high weeds and circled the house. Nothing. All was quiet except for the usual owl hooting in a nearby tree.
Back in the house, my fears evaporated completely...but new apprehensions arose. I remembered that I had lots of food in the fridge and freezer - enough for two weeks. It would perish if the power didn't return.
I called the after-hours number for the local power company. No answer.
I said to hell with everything! and went to bed.
Kept my window wide open and laid there watching the bright stars. My cat Bosco climbed onto my chest and we both went to sleep.
I woke up around 8:00 this morning and the power was still off. I called the power company again and ....just as a recorded message put me on "hold" - - the power came back on!!
It was amazing and I rejoiced.
I took a helluva long time to tell a story about absolutely nothing, but that's one of my talents....and charms.
Moonrise
I have recently been doing Hollywood posts in honor of Oscar week. This is a rude interruption to update my status here in the mundane mountain wilderness.
The wicked wintery weather has abated, turning into endless torrents of mud-inducing rain. It slacked off enough on Monday for me to make the dreaded trek into town. If nothing else, I now have sufficient supplies. And cat food. And litter (for the cats, not me).
I was plagued with alarming health issues all last week, which were so bad at times that I actually left a letter in case I dropped dead. I very seldom mention health issues in my blog, for two reasons:
1. It's unbecoming to selfishly bitch
and
2. Nobody really gives a rat's ass
After plying myself with aspirin and trying to lower my insanely high stress level, I'm presently feeling better....or at least adequate. Yesterday I forced myself to do a lot of long-neglected housework. My Texas house used to be absolutely spotless. Here in my remote Tennessee shack, I've been annoyingly indifferent.
Weather forecast:
Rain will continue today (Wednesday) and turn into snow by mid-afternoon.
If I'm still alive, I plan to make more homemade soup.
It's not quite dawn as I'm writing this. Earlier tonight there was a power outage. Imagine being totally isolated, surrounded by forests, with no lights anywhere. Fortunately there was a full moon (or nearly full) which kept peeking out from behind clouds. It was very windy and actually intriguingly beautiful. I went outside to watch the ever-changing midnight clouds and the evasive moon.
I was in the process of making coffee and toast just when the lights went out. Had to finish my midnight snack by candlelight.
I'm not complaining. I love the wilderness, the solitude, the inspiring forces of nature.....
Now, just before dawn, the power is miraculously back on. My cats are sleeping. The rain has stopped for the moment. It is getting colder. I'll patiently await the snow....
and I'll post a few more Hollywood stories later this week (as if anyone cares....).
an excerpt from Love Letters to Ghosts
IV
Listen to the distant song
of the wandering wind.
You will almost hear it
whisper my name.
Things once forgotten
breathe in unison
with the soft touch of your memory.
Imagine a gentle light
sifting through parted clouds,
bathing the broken paths
of passing storms.
Songs of remembrance are like that.
They expunge the haze of faded hours,
heal the crush of broken days.
In unexpected moments
they ignite the sun's first splash of light
and dare to sing in unrehearsed gratitude.
It is there, in the dawn of yearning everafters
that the cathedral of my love will embrace you.
Jon V.
