Waves in the ocean, generated by wind, are said to travel hundreds or even thousands of miles. The language used to describe waves—their genesis, and their demise—is unique. Terms like fetch and swell and contact distance and stochastic process are meant to help explain the formation and behavior of waves; but understanding fluid dynamics requires more than language. An appreciation of the way water interacts with wind to explain the wizardry of living liquid entails accepting the equivalent of voodoo. Black magic. The embrace of Neptune or Poseidon, as one’s divine savior—or his rejection, as the monster responsible for the treachery of the seas.
+++
A kiss is just as difficult to understand as are waves. A kiss should have no more meaning, nor influence, than a handshake or a pat on the shoulder. But the power of a kiss dwarfs even the heartiest handshake. Or the most powerful hug or embrace. Not just any kiss, of course. The right kiss. The kiss that sends electrical current coursing through one’s body. The one that could power all the spotlights and electric motors in North America. With plenty of excess power to illuminate the far reaches of the most distant galaxy.
+++
More patchouli. Because the aroma of a smoldering cone of the right incense unlocks sensual pleasures. The scent of burning patchouli incense unleashes the silent thunder hidden deep inside one’s mind. Not one’s brain; one’s mind. That joyous amalgamation of thought and emotion and physical sensation; the experience that launches desire and satisfaction and hope and a million more subdued thrills. Or is it all just smoke? Vapor that fools us into believing in fire?
+++
Between 1 and 4 this afternoon, the weather is expected to turn cold and angry. Snow flurries may fall as the temperature begins to slide; 42°F around noon, 38 degrees colder by midnight. If good fortune prevails, the roads will be sufficiently clear and dry by Friday morning to permit a crowd to attend the celebration of life of a friend whose death reminded me that mortality stalks us. One does not prepare for death; one prepares for the aftermath of one’s death. That is, if one considers the rawness of death and its impact on the rest of us. We claim to understand death, but when it happens to people around us, we suddenly realize we do not believe in death. Death cannot possibly be real, can it? Yet it is inevitable. Like the weather. Like temperatures plunging to an unbelievable 4°F. It is bound to happen, eventually. We will be cold and astonished at the sun’s abandonment. We will want to burn sticks of wood and logs and entire cities; anything to overwhelm frigid temperatures. But we will remain civilized. For a time, anyway.
+++
Ukrainian President Volodymyr Zelenskyy paid the U.S. a visit yesterday. I do not pretend to know how his visit will impact the direction of his country’s war against the aggression of Russia. Nor do I know how it will influence this country’s reaction to that aggression. We shall see. Eventually.
+++
It’s 7. Two hours have passed since I arose from bed. I wanted to sleep, but I was uncomfortable. Oh, well. I can sleep again tonight. Or, perhaps, sometime today. For now, I will wave goodbye to sleep. Until next time.
