maine journals / 12.29.20 / altered rhythms

Rose light is gently warming the cold dawn, and revealing how drastically our schedules have shifted from the vampire days of musician life.

We go to bed much earlier — the sun sets just after 4PM, after all — and on work days we rise in complete darkness, before any semblance of “day” has begun.

Half-asleep taking the dog to pee this morning I caught a glimpse of the full moon dropping over the hill to our west. Its bright glow exploded a kind of surprised joy in my heart. The moon is always doing things like this. For much of my life I would have missed such a display; I have never been a happy morning person. Now, to the writer who has lived quietly inside me for years of other work and projects, the quiet stretches for miles. Coffee and a blank page seem so complete. They are all I need.