Hello little mouse! Hello December!
At 5:45, put on my headset with the intention of playing Holosync (alpha level whatever) and instead, as I set the iPod down, got Norah Jones singing “Strange Transmissions”. I came to wakefulness thinking, “who is the possessor of this voice?!!!” Stretched hips, waist, and legs in bed as iPod continued to make selections (Elbow, Habib Cotiez — I’ll have to check on African musician’s name later). In other words, music roused me in the most surprising and wonderful way. In fact, it made me WANT to stretch into my day.
Twenty minutes later, walking Jack on the quiet side streets, the air was warm, brushing my face and I thought, “This is December”. Noticing my block — the inky fractals of upreaching oaks, nearly bare of leaves, against the hazy periwinkle of a sky portending rain; the predictable stop made by Jack at recently wet sapling; the creak of a morning dove’s ascent — gave me, if not a jazz of happiness, at least a spate of connected moments where I showed up.