An evening to slow down. The drinks, the conversations and music, different layers and different kinds of attachment. Wind got stronger, shaking the trees and howling through the windows and doors. The silence of the village, the few lights, the stars in the clouds and a feeling of detachment, then and now. Again. In several ways. Where do we dream when we're completely on our own? Have a peaceful night wherever you are.
Early mornings do not demand early nights, but then and now the line between being consciously awake and half-asleep is fuzzy and even bustling with activity doesn't get things done anymore. Slowing down. A sip from a glass, breathing hazy wet air of another early dusk, observing how these quarters sound at this time of day. Random phone calls on other peoples relationships included. And crows, too. Sleep well everyone wherever you are.
11pm, almost. No more challenges to accept today. Some energy left but merely to shut down the evening in an ordered manner. Books closed. Clothes sorted. Dishes shelved. Prepared what the morning needs, again: Knife, board, mug, bread. Rituals day in day out. Ready for stars in an open sky. Have a quiet night wherever you are.
At the end of the week, of the day: a cool drink in a still warm street. And then, unlocking the doors. Opening the windows. A shower and a moment with closed eyes, in a rain of clear water. Tired. Silent. Serene. Nothing more that needs to be done today. Have a soft night wherever you are.
Once again, powering down. The day settles, the house yawns. Too warm, too cold and too many pillows to handle. Glasses empty. Rooms straightened, some thoughts piled, some appropriate shell put in place for the new mornings self. The possibility of sleep, the vague promises of dreams. Have a calm night wherever you are.