COLD SPOOKY OCTOBER NIGHT

I just went out on the back porch to brush the dust off an extra blanket that I'm putting on the bed. Almost immediately, a pack of coyotes rambled out of the forest and came unnervingly close to the porch.

They immediately started their ghastly chorus of wails, cries, shrieks, and demonic laughter. Spooky, indeed, but also extremely fascinating. I ran to get my cell phone so I could record their midnight serenade, but by the time I turned the dang thing on the coyotes were meandering far away from the house. Their visit was brief.

I wish there was some way to describe how incredibly dark - and I mean dark - it is here at night. Absolute blackness.
When I first moved here I was freaked out for about two weeks - - imagining that I'd be killed by hungry wolves...or a crazed ax murderer lurking in the forest. My imagination ascended to new levels of horror.

The front porch tonight, with the ghost-like swing

Soon I got used to the isolated loneliness and actually welcomed it. I wandered outside fearlessly at night - - even sometimes left the doors unlocked when  I went to bed.

Come to think of it, this reckless insanity isn't new. I've lived dangerously most of my life. When I think back of all the dangerous things I've done, I shudder.
Deep down somewhere in semi-consciousness is a death wish. I've known that for a long time.

Change of subject.

Crisp autumn weather finally blew in to rural Tennessee this weekend. When I walked in the woods a few days ago it was nearly 80 degrees. Today (Saturday) there was an invigorating wind and the daytime temperature was 53 degrees (Fahrenheit). A fantastic autumn day. It's supposed to be in the 30s late tonight. The October midnight ghosts are shivering. 

I hadn't planned on writing a blog post tonight, but the coyotes inspired me. What I had planned was to post a rerun of Mephistopheles at Midnight  (the Hollywood Halloween orgy) - - but I'm deciding if it will be too offensive and erotic for my delicate readers.
I have an uncanny knack for offending just about everyone - which is why my readership has dropped drastically this past year.

I personally think I'm unique and fascinating, but I guess that's beside the point
(wry *smile* inserted here).

Well, hell, Mephistopheles will probably be my next post. Just to annoy you.

It's getting late and it's very chilly. I'm going to crawl into bed...and probably watch a scary movie.
I'll make sure the doors are locked tonight.....

Pleasant dreams, Jon

 

BETWEEN DUSK AND DAWN

 

 For some weird and indiscernible reason, I suddenly remembered that I never pimped my book for children on this blog.

The peculiar thought occurred to me when I  found a dust-encrusted copy of it on one of my bookshelves yesterday. It was published in 2016 (2nd edition 2018) and I can hardly believe that five years have passed.

The thought of me writing a children's book might come as a shock, because the general consensus is that I dislike children.

In truth, I don't hate the little rugrats. I simply like them best from a distance of fifty miles. At least.

Between Dusk and Dawn is a paperback book with seventeen poems, approximately 65 glossy pages, with an array of colored pictures that I selected.

 

 

The poetry depicts the magic and mystery of the nocturnal world - with the beauty that enhances our dreams, infused with shrouds of uncertainty that inspire our fears and induce nightmares.

The moon, owls, crones, sprite, will o' the wisp, bats, werewolves, gnomes, ghosts - - things quite appropriate for the Halloween season.

Available at Amazon.
Between Dusk and Dawn

 

NIGHT

Night is the time
between dusk and dawn
when the world is dark
and the hours are long,

when a creamy moon rises
above the tall trees
and wise old owls
whoo-hoot in the breeze,

when the leaves on the trees
softly rustle and sway
and almost seem
to have something to say,

When the stars far above
always twinkle and glow
while the shadowy earth
drowses way down below.

Night is the time
when cats like to prowl
and moths like to flutter
and wolves start to howl,

when crickets are chirping
by the banks of a creek
and bats fly about
in the sky as they squeak.

Night is when shadows
will lurk in your room
and silence will listen
in the gathering gloom

and outside your window
the night creatures creep
while dreams come to visit
as you peacefully sleep.

 

SOMETHING

But suddenly something
jolts you awake.
What could it be.
for goodness sake?

Was it the wind
as it whisked past the house
or was it the scurrying
feet of a mouse?

Was it a creature
outside in the gloom,
or did the sound come
from the midst of your room?

Could it have come
from the dark closet door,
or from under your bed
with the dust on the floor?

or maybe the sound that you heard
wasn't there -
and is only a dream
that gave you a scare.

Jon Varga

copyright 2016-2018

  

RAINY NIGHT

Can't remember when I made this video, but I know I've posted it before.
I decided to rehash it simply to set a mood. My present mood.

It's a rainy, melancholy, sleepless night: a night made for hot tea and honey, freshly-baked pound cake, purring cats, a softly ticking clock....and the restless breath of a bitterly chilly wind stirring treetops and remnants of tattered leaves.

Silence. Solitude. Languid hours that conjure distant memories and the comforting echoes of places and lives that no longer exist. For a brief and precious moment the past seems alive again, almost real enough to feel the warmth.....
but the echoes inevitably vanish
with the rudely persistent ticking of the clock. 
Please don't go......

The haunting song Marlene Dietrich sings in this video is Bitte Geh Nicht Fort (Please don't Leave Me). She's singing it in German.


It was written in 1959 by Belgian singer/songwriter Jacques Brel, and the original French title is Ne Me Quitte Pas.

Brel was inspired to write this when his mistress Zizou (Suzanne Gabriello) left him. He didn't consider it to be a love song, but rather "a hymn to the cowardice of men."

Many singers have interpreted this song over the years - among the best were Nina Simone and (perhaps) Edith Piaf.

My absolute favorite, however, is Dietrich who - in my biased opinion - makes all others pale in comparison.

Also - for some incredibly strange reason - I prefer this song sung in German rather than the original French.

 


Note: your kind comments on my previous post meant a lot. Thanks!

(video is best viewed full-screen) 

THUNDERHEADS ON THE EDGE OF AUGUST

....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.....

DEAD OF NIGHT

I wish I could bring you here, after midnight, and show you how unfathomably black and foreboding the surrounding forest is.

I love it. The sightless hours between dusk and dawn have always been my respite and emotional salvation.

When I first moved here - for about the first two weeks - I was admittedly very apprehensive. I wasn't used to the wild sounds of the wilderness. I had unwholesome visions of being attacked by wild animals..... or being robbed and violated by a roving band of moonshine-crazed, inbred hillbillies.

I threw in the "violated" part for dramatic effect.

Now, however - after four and a half years - I have no fear at all. I'll (reluctantly) admit that, on numerous occasions, I have even slept with the door unlocked.

Recent events have inspired me to be more cautious and careful. I won't expound, but it's best not to encourage danger.....

As disturbing as it sounds, I have always courted danger. My youthful escapades in California - especially on the midnight streets of L.A. and Hollywood - would make life in the forest pale drastically in comparison.

Humanity is much more dangerous than nature. 

My thoughts are wandering down dark paths tonight. It's raining now, way after midnight, on an unusually quiet night. No owls, no coyotes or wild dogs. No nothing. I saw some lightning bugs earlier in the evening, but now even they are gone.

I had planned on driving to town on Friday (that's today) but thunderstorms are predicted by dawn - and all through the weekend. I'll try to go on Monday. 

I should be doing other things rather than writing in this useless blog.
I'd like to complete the two volumes of my memoirs while my mental faculties are still reasonably sound......

.......which is a matter of debate. 

BLUE MOON

This is the night of the Blue Moon. A so-called blue moon occurs when there are two full moons in one month. January, 2018 had a full moon on the 2nd and on the 31st.

While you marvel at my knowledge and the astounding wonders of nature, I'll admit that I'm actually writing this in the early morning hours of February 1st. But it's still dark outside and the moon is still full. 
Not blue.
But full. 

In honor of the not-so-blue full moon, I've decided to torture you with my piano rendition of Clair de Lune (Moonlight) by Claude Debussy (1862-1918).

Long-time readers of my blog have seen this video before - but I'm assuming that they'll politely ignore the fact and enjoy seeing it again (I'm being a wiseass). 
Question:
Is "wise ass" one word or two? It doesn't often occur in my vocabulary.
Only about once in a blue moon.

A few program notes:
I recorded this video when I lived in Texas - - when I was already past my prime (almost) and far past my youthful days in California when I was a genuine musician. 

This composition by Debussy was originally titled Promenade Sentimentale, but he later changed the title to Clair de Lune - based on a poem by Paul Verlaine.

Critics could probably say that I play this piece too fast, too harshly, and too loud.
I say "Crap!" (and I'm being polite).

I've always maintained that most pianists play this piece far too slowly and with too much sweetness and delicacy. 

The average time length for a pianist to perform this is somewhere between five to six minutes.
I recently saw one pianist (a near-comatose female) who took over six and a half minutes to play it.
That isn't a performance. It's a crucifixion.

According to this video, I take about 4 minutes and 32 seconds to play Clair de Lune.

And my interpretative instincts are correct!!!!
I recently discovered an actual recording of Claude Debussy playing this and he only takes 3 minutes and 51 seconds.

Of course, these ancient recordings may not be entirely accurate, but they're close enough.
Here's the Debussy version.

 

OUT OF THE FOG, INTO THE WIND

It's a few hours before dawn on Saturday morning. A very strong and unseasonably warm wind is blowing - rustling restlessly through the trees, making the wind chimes on my front porch sing.

Several packs (groups? gangs?) of coyotes were howling nearby awhile ago: a macabre chorus in the night. I ran out on the front porch to see them, but it was really too dark (moonless and/or cloudy) and they disbanded rather quickly.

The wind is really raging now as I write. Things are banging around outside and all my cats woke up. The warm temperature is eerie but it won't last (unfortunately). Frigid weather is expected by Christmas Eve.

Yesterday (Friday) the rain poured all day and it was foggy. I've never seen rain and fog at the same time until I moved to Tennessee. I actually like it - very atmospheric.

I snapped a few photos yesterday. Nothing particularly interesting.

 Oranges and apples, and two old nutcrackers that I found packed away.

This snowman used to play music when you pressed his hand, but it no longer works.

The front yard yesterday morning when the fog was starting to roll in (above).

 

.....and the back yard in the dreary afternoon. 

 

 A few autumn leaves are still clinging to trees.

 

 I took a picture of these candles without using the flash and captured my hands holding the camera in the mirror.

SPOOKY NIGHT

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. 

 

SOLSTICE AND MOONLIGHT

Private thoughts often clash with public perception. That is why there's a danger in keeping a public journal. Revealing the sacred mechanisms of your inner self always encourages adverse reactions and willingly invites opposition. Fires rage.

After the smoke of the conflagration initially settles, however, a reassuring calm and clarity prevails: and I realize that this is my special place and all others are merely interlopers treading on uncertain terrain.

Despite the dangers and vulnerabilities, there is an intense satisfaction and curious comfort knowing the intruders are there. Without the recurring footfall of  interlopers the silence would be deafening.

Thanks for being here.

Wouldn't it be more simple to speak in layman's terms, Jon?

Probably. But it would be far less poetic.

Moonlight and summer solstice. A full strawberry moon. Moonlight floods the open spaces with dazzling silver light and starkly shadows the forest with intriguing shrouds of mystery. The night is alive with all things nocturnal: owls and bats, 'possums and racoons, crickets, frogs, coyotes and wild dogs.

The coyotes have been abundant these past few nights - howling and shrieking, uttering grievances in a barbaric language that often sounds unnervingly human.

 back yard in moonlight

(and moon rising in header photo)

Last night, just after midnight, piercing screams came from the trees that skirt the cow meadow. The screams continued and increased as they moved closer to the house. Then I heard something running through the tall grasses just beyond my bedroom window. I looked out and saw nothing. 

I dared to venture out on the front porch but could see even less. Clouds were obscuring moonlight and a surrealistic vagueness prevailed. The porch is on a much higher level than the ground. It's more like a balcony.

But soft, what light through yonder window breaks -

it is the east and Juliet is the sun.

Arise, fair sun, and kill the envious moon

who is already sick and pale with grief

that thou her maid are far more fair than she.

Be not her maid, since she is envious....

Long ago, pathetically long ago  I used to know most of Romeo's soliloquies by heart and I could recite them with reasonable conviction. Unfortunately these oratory talents never impressed anyone.

Why did I mention this? I'm simply marveling at the artistic dimensions of my youth.

Nowadays, I have trouble remembering my phone number.

The lightning bugs - or fireflies - are everywhere. When I was a very young child in New Jersey we called them lightning bugs. My family moved to California when I was five and I didn't see lightning bugs for the next thirty years. They are not a west coast pleasure. It's very satisfying to see them again.

Remember those haunting blue orbs that I saw in the forest last summer? They are completely gone. I never saw them again. I'm certain they were some type of firefly.

Summer nights are enchanted here in the wilderness. 

 

 

CHILDREN OF THE NIGHT

Listen to them, the children of the night.
What music they make!

Dracula
Bram Stoker

I've been nocturnal for as long as I can remember - - and when I try to sleep, I'm a hopeless insomniac.

Hungarian heritage? Possible vampirism?? It's undoubtedly something in my blood (no Dracula puns intended). Some people rise and shine with the morning sun. I don't feel alive until after dark. I'm never fully awake until midnight. I dread daybreak.

So where am I going with this subject?
Absolutely nowhere. It simply crossed my mind tonight, during a several-hours-long battle with insomnia.

I went to bed extremely early tonight - which means before midnight. My Big Plan (capitalized for emphasis) was to drive to town. This wasn't intended to be a pleasure excursion, but rather a necessary one. I need a new vacuum cleaner. Pronto.

The more I tried to sleep, the more I turned and tossed. The more I tossed and turned, the wider awake I became. The wider awake I became, the more I dreaded the agonizing prospect of piloting those excruciatingly endless winding mountain roads.

My back hurts, Big Time. I also have a monumental kink in my neck (had it for days). Probably should buy new pillows, along with the vacuum cleaner. 

Bosco was hogging all the covers. No need for alarm. Bosco's a cat. Not a lover. (just thought I'd clear that up in case you were in doubt)

Come to think of it, I probably did have a lover named Bosco somewhere along the line - - long ago during my reckless whiskey and hashish days..... Or was that Bozo?
(sometimes I like to throw in an unexpected punch, just to knock my critics for a loop) 

An owl was emitting spooky Halloweenish hoots near my bedroom window. At least I think it was an owl....

I finally got up, went into the kitchen, made a sandwich and a cup of coffee. At 3:00 a.m. 
Caffeine is the last thing I need. I'm already wired for sound.

At around 4:00 a pack of coyotes wandered in from the forest just behind the house - howling, yelping, growling, shrieking with demonic enthusiasm. 

There were a lot of them, much more than usual, and they came very close to my back door. I turned on the back porch light. When they finally moved to a safer distance, I stepped outside to have a look. They were already just a murky blur in the darkness.

When the coyotes are very close in large numbers, their presence is blood-curdling - - not to mention goose bump inducing - - but I love the excitement. There's an intoxicating satisfaction about being alone in the wilderness at night. It lends romance to nocturnality and intrigue to insomnia.

Spell Check informs me that nocturnality doesn't exist. I say bullshit! Look in the dictionary. Spel czech iz rong!!

So, where was I?

It's nearly dawn now and I'm still not sleepy. My Big Plan for Wednesday has been thwarted by insomnia. I can't go on Thursday, due to predicted Big Storms (capitalized for emphasis). The vacuum cleaner will have to wait. And I have no regrets.

I'm going back to bed.


Afterthought:
This crappy post probably shouldn't have been written. If you'd rather see pictures, check out my two previous posts.

 

DARK INTERLUDE

 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.