I’ve never been so affected by conditions at twilight as I have this year. They’ve started sending my state of mind soaring or plummeting in concert with their own mood swings.
Tonight’s was another cold, wet and gloomy one. I didn’t mind the rain; we’ve had some warm, dry weather lately and the earth needed a drink. What bothered me was the low temperature and a leaden sky forcing a premature end to the day. It seemed somehow disrespectful, and I think that gives the clue as to why they’re having such an effect on me now.
Twilight is the time when nature goes through a change of shifts. The bees, butterflies and birds go home, and out come the moths, the bats and the snails. As such, I’m becoming more convinced that it’s the time when the veil between this form of reality and others which lie beyond is at its thinnest. It’s the time when magic stops being quite so mysterious and begins to make sense; it’s the time when Om becomes almost audible. The cold and the clouds get in the way, and that disappoints me.
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And I haven’t posted any music for a while, so I thought I’d offer this current favourite:
It’s clearly Chinese, and yet there’s a hint of Blue Grass in the melodic structure. It would be almost as much at home in the Appalachians as it would on the banks of the Yellow River, and I like to think that music builds bridges to counter the walls prescribed by little souls like Donald the Dunce. And don’t Chinese women have beautiful hands?