Remind me to remember to forget that all ellipsis comes to a period
I was not bedridden for the last couple of months, but I spent far too much time in my apartment and I am still spending far too much time in my apartment. I did not manage to get out before sunset this afternoon thanks to the hold times of doctors' offices, but I did at least leave the house while there was still light in the sky.
Just visible on the green copper gutter of the Knights of Malta Hall, a red-tailed hawk.![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
spatch asked when I got home if it was the one he named a couple of years ago when it brought a small mammal to a tree in our back yard and did its best imitation of the vultures on Prometheus.
The de/construction of the high school proceeds apace.
I don't know the name for the process of installing or maintaining the catenary of the Green Line Extension, but I am delighted to have discovered a crew with a rail-riding cherry picker working on it. There were occasional buzzes and flashes. I waved.
The shed behind Pearl Street Studios has not changed its message since the last time I visited, but now it's an illuminated palimpsest.
A rabbit in a yard on Bradley Street with no fear whatsoever of me. I give it ten to one against the hawk.
By the time I got home, the twilight was a beautiful deep winter blue. Rob photographed me against it.
Hestia guards her treasures on the dining room table.
Autolycus hoards my shoulder, chin on possessive paw.
Perhaps tomorrow, who knows, some direct sunlight.
Just visible on the green copper gutter of the Knights of Malta Hall, a red-tailed hawk.
spatch asked when I got home if it was the one he named a couple of years ago when it brought a small mammal to a tree in our back yard and did its best imitation of the vultures on Prometheus.
The de/construction of the high school proceeds apace.
I don't know the name for the process of installing or maintaining the catenary of the Green Line Extension, but I am delighted to have discovered a crew with a rail-riding cherry picker working on it. There were occasional buzzes and flashes. I waved.
The shed behind Pearl Street Studios has not changed its message since the last time I visited, but now it's an illuminated palimpsest.
A rabbit in a yard on Bradley Street with no fear whatsoever of me. I give it ten to one against the hawk.
By the time I got home, the twilight was a beautiful deep winter blue. Rob photographed me against it.
Hestia guards her treasures on the dining room table.
Autolycus hoards my shoulder, chin on possessive paw.
Perhaps tomorrow, who knows, some direct sunlight.