I avoid the personal, but here’s something personal in the extreme.
Last night I was biking home from Luke Duke's after we dined with his family and Magnum and my mum, and I was thinking how it would just be ludicrous if there was a better family than them, and thinking how nice it is to be enjoying my man and all, and then the moon rode low and curvy in the cityscape viewed over Riverdale Park. I bellowed at Figaro, “look at the moon!” Pointing. Not slowing down. Just going. Thinking, should I slow down and catch this with my crap little camera phone? And then thinking, as Fig ooed and ahhhed – no – it’s enough that we both saw it.
In Singing Neanderthals, Steven Mithen wrote wonderfully of the physical and chemical power of harmony and rhythm – singing and dancing – to create a real bond between people. I’ll extend it totally unscientifically here and say sharing beautiful things has the power to create, not only a bond between people, but a bond between each person and the world.
Motherfuckers, I’ve never been paying so much attention.
Not much else to say today. Off to the North tonight and hoping for the continuation of the pleasant weather. Mostly finished Kinzer book. Brief, dismissive review to come.