I took this picture, shortly after 9 pm on Saturday, June 23. Yesterday evening, that is. At that hour, Sunday, June 24, had already burst on the scene in New York. On the western shores of Europe, Sunday was unfolding into the light of day rolling across the continent, while the folks over in New Zealand were about to get ready for Sunday dinner, perhaps even catching a glimpse of the winter sunset coming their way.
When I headed out last night, I tried to stand in pretty much the same spot from where I took the picture for what is now yesterday’s post. I tried to bookend the day, but that proved to be impossible, given that I had this sense that my day never really started yesterday. Sure, there were the cups of coffee and the lists of things I had to do and the list of things I wanted to do. Not much got checked off from either.
Laundry from one list. When in doubt, at a loss, anxious, or even after the ecstasy, there is the laundry, to quote Jack Kornfield of Spirit Rock. As for items from the “want” list, like biking over to the San Anselmo Art & Wine Festival, I got as far as catching a ride with the spouse late in the afternoon, when parking proved impossible and my mood too sour for crowds. So we drove on and bought groceries instead. By the time we got back home, we scrapped the plans for going to the movies, too.
And so it happened that the only moment that both put me fully in and took me out of the day that never took off, was the small gap in the darkening sky through which moonlight threw its anchor … or, in this case a bait for words.