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.
* * *
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?
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