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Printed from https://www.writing.com/main/profile/blog/nordicnoir/month/10-1-2019
by Ned
Rated: 13+ · Book · Entertainment · #2199980
Thoughts destined to be washed away by the tides of life.
I've been studying my cover photo for a while now, and it seems to me that it is more than just a photo of what is there that can be seen, more than just three white rocks stacked on a beach. It contains an important question about the future, about what happens long after the photographer has gone. What will happen to our pile of stones when the tide comes in? Will it topple or has the architect built this structure at a safe distance?

I don't know what will happen to these words that I stack here on the sand. They may prove safely distant, or they may be swallowed up by a rush of self-doubt. They may be here for a season. They may lose their balance and be scattered by the shoreline, or be hidden away under shifting sands. Perhaps someday, the tides of life will reclaim them.


Or maybe that's just a bunch of poetic, romantic nonsense. After all, this is just a blog.




October 6, 2019 at 8:32am
October 6, 2019 at 8:32am
#967325
I think that early morning is the best time to write. I mean - really, early morning. Whether it's 4am or 5am, the most important thing is that it is still dark and no one else is up yet. Solitude and darkness. My old friends. Solitude is kind of a loner but darkness gets around a bit. Darkness is good friends with Paul Simon, too.

Anyway, I like to get up early. Sometimes, I get up too early. That was the case yesterday morning when I was up too early but had this brilliant idea about putting the coffee on to brew while I crawled back under the bed covers for a few more blissful horizontal moments. Sorry, almost forgot to mention this - coffee is another old friend you need in the morning. Coffee, darkness and solitude.

One thing you don't need is foggy morning brain. Not a friend. The coffee will clear it up, if you can make it, Aye, there's the rub,

I got up too early yesterday and decided to make the coffee. I had the large can of coffee open on the counter when the cat made some distracting noises on the other side of the room. I turned to see and my arm brushed the coffee can right off the edge of the counter onto the floor.

This was actually an amazing sight to see, for the can of coffee landed directly upside down, with its bottom in the air. The open end was on the floor, and there was a light dusting of coffee grounds in a brown halo all around it. "Go ahead." it taunted me. "Pick me up and see what happens."

I knew I had foggy morning brain so I did nothing. Not right away. Well, I said a naughty word, but then I did nothing. It occurred to me that only the coffee that was actually touching the floor was to be discarded. The rest that remained in the can was still pure. What I needed was a thin sheet of steel to slide under it and then to flip it over.

I didn't have any steel lying around so I had to go for sheets of printer paper. I used a couple to make it a bit stiffer. The whole process would have gone better if I could bend over and touch the floor first thing in the morning, but alas, that's unlikely to be the case before I have had my coffee.

I saved more than half the coffee that was left in the can but I swept up and tossed out a good three or four pots' worth. I finished putting the coffee pot on and didn't bother going back to bed to wait for it. The mood was ruined.

Today, I didn't get up so early. If darkness is really my old friend, he'll make the coffee.


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Printed from https://www.writing.com/main/profile/blog/nordicnoir/month/10-1-2019