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Nov. 13th, 2011 09:40 amAfter long breaks posting here, I make a determined effort to post every day for novembre. I find there is such a thing as 'write a novel in novembre', or NaNoWriMo. Well, that, no can haz! I discover there is NaBloPoMo; 'write a post a day in novembre'. O-kay. Well, I didn't sign up to say I would, but am making effort to do so, so... new tag, back added.
Last eve, skies were clear seiz-mé, and I had occasion to be out late. Used it to view the moon, and any thing else I could locate. It was cold, a hint of frost catching the back of your throat with every breath, and the occasional sniff of coal smoke (took me back to childhood). Always I think that moon light in winter has otherworldly feel, fey. Walking under stars, I would not be surprised to meet a group of Vanyar. Any thing seems believable. Writing this in a watery sunlit morning, I can not find words to convey my feelings.
Last eve, skies were clear seiz-mé, and I had occasion to be out late. Used it to view the moon, and any thing else I could locate. It was cold, a hint of frost catching the back of your throat with every breath, and the occasional sniff of coal smoke (took me back to childhood). Always I think that moon light in winter has otherworldly feel, fey. Walking under stars, I would not be surprised to meet a group of Vanyar. Any thing seems believable. Writing this in a watery sunlit morning, I can not find words to convey my feelings.
