Night Prowling

                     I was up again in the night prowling around. Sometimes I read, sometimes I write or paint or do housework. One time I painted my bathroom. If I am having an allergy attack I take a pill and drink tea while I wait for it to take effect. I sniffle and blow my nose. I’ve almost given up trying to figure out the cause each time. I’m allergic to so many things and if it’s not something I have consumed – there’s Quincy – I’m allergic to dogs and I am living with one.

I don’t mind my nighttime prowling. In fact, it can be quite special. If I’m at my house and the weather is warm I might go out on my deck and sit listening to the natural sounds of the river and the marsh. They are completely different from the daytime sounds. At Dieter’s I have sat wrapped in a blanket on his veranda and watched the moonlight on the waves. Quincy doesn’t know what to make of my nocturnal antics. She rolls her eyes at me as only a dog or a teenager can and goes back to sleep.

Last night it was full moon. I sat on the deck for about an hour listening.  I could see the moon, filtered through a light fog, but I couldn’t see the ocean. It was the softness of the night air and the gentle noises that I enjoyed. The waves on the invisible beach sounded like distant traffic and the occasional cry of seagulls rose from the direction of the wharf. I guessed that the slight slopping sound from the base of the cliff must be water against the rocks. It was good to hear the fog horn.

It hasn’t been functioning for most of the summer but there was comfort in the repetition every minute of the two notes, an optimistic ascending note followed by a discouraged descending note.

 

 

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