Tuesday, May 04, 2010
The spring night was magical.
Warm breezes, scented with a hint of the barely open lilac blossoms on the bush outside my open bedroom window, swayed the filmy pink curtains softly to and fro.
The just-past-full moon lit the yard and turned everything silver and black -- the lawn, the trees, and a raccoon hurrying by on some solitary errand.
Stars blazed and wheeled in the night sky, a Van Gogh canvas come to life.
Coyotes yipped and howled down along the river, the sound of their revelry carried up the ridge and through my window on the night wind.
And I was awake at 2 a.m, 3:17 a.m, and 4:03 a.m. to enjoy all this freaking nocturnal beauty because the freaking cat kept jumping up on the bed and standing up on his hind legs to look out the window, sniff the breeze, and growl at the passing fauna -- while using my head as a conveniently positioned standing platform.
And using his claws for balance, of course.