August 27

From the past days.....


Raging thunderstorm yesterday afternoon, the wind with the force of a hurricane for twenty minutes, enough blessed rain that nothing else withered and died during the night. Lightning struck quite nearby, and a few times it was near enough to startle the imperturbable Titus from his catnap. Jocasta, on the top of the big green chair, deaf as a post, slept through it all.

Yellowish, grayish morning, with a stink about it of something vaguely rotting. A hummingbird drills fiercely into the steeple of the mullein, buzzing hard and loud, like a machine jammed at its work. The moon was a gouged cup last night, though whether it waxes or wanes I had lost track.

Surprisingly chipper for having returned this morning at 2, surprised as I made my way to the car how lively the streets still are at that hour. I had participated in The Best of No-Shame Theater, which started at 11:20 instead of 10 because of the play marathon at NC Stage. Alison and I reprised our mountain climbing piece by Nathan Zumwalt. Zumwalt was hesitant and imperfectly communicative when we first did the piece last autumn, but this time through he was quite specific about what he wanted, and my impression of his potential as a playwright was enhanced. He’s smart and possesses an ear for dialogue. The playlets were much better than they usually are on a Saturday night, less like skits and more like plays, which I suppose justifies the title “best of.” A few managed to wear thin in under five minutes, but I’ll set some of that down to the hour.
Devin had gone to San Francisco to see “Something About Death,” the festival in which we were both included. He said it was awful. And so it goes.