09.16.09

When it rains as it is raining today, with such primal urgency, I always long to put on my tromping boots and go out away from (and into) "it all" and just steep.

It's been a lovely Wednesday so far. I woke early and felt so utterly refreshed as I puttered around the darkly lit kitchen, brewing coffee and pouring dog food and clearing counterspace from the debris of last night.

Janie was particularly endearing, and wasn't visited by any phantoms all morning. Often she'll stiffen several times through the course of a morning and glower at the air in front of her, growling hoarsely. It gives me the creeps to witness this reaction to something I cannot even sense. (What heir of the Old Testament legacy does not wonder at the ramifications of Balaam's ass?) I sometimes wonder if dogs are attuned to the world on a supernatural level. We all know that they can hear things far beyond our range, and they percieve light and movement differently. I've read, too, that dogs can smell if a human has low blood sugar or even certain types of cancer. It makes me regard Janie with a certain awe. This lean, darling creature has the spunky innocence of a child and the grave sorrowful eyes of a saint. I love her.

The afternoon promises rainshowers and company. I'm looking forward to fixing some lasagna for a friend and conversing over dinner in a cozy sanctuary of a living room.

For now, though, work calls me away from my desk and out into the muddied halls and lobbies of my building.