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Peace. Imagine this: a cool evening, a quiet street, no one around, birds already asleep in the darkened trees, a blanket on the grass, the stars appearing overhead, and a cat by your side. Can you feel it? My cup of decaf is already cold, ignored. I'm too enthralled by what I can see and feel. The moon is not full tonight, but is extremely bright. My mind (1)wanders over the night sky, until I sense the warmth of the quiet feline who has placed himself gently next to me. The nights here in North Central Washington are like a sensory sanctuary, at least for me. When the farenheits dip down into the lower seventies and then continue to decrease, I can finally surface. Even my mother, who is from Spain, doesn't make an appearance outside until it is cool enough. Everything about me seems to resist the extreme heat of the day; I must be the opposite of a lizzard. (2)There is no basking on a rock for me. The shade is what I like. And so, of course, night time is even better. It surprises me, actually, that more people are not outside. In the UK, if ever we get a warm or dry evening, most people make the most of it by staying outside, either eating, drinking in a pub, or just lingering with friends and family. It's a rare treat.
So, here I am with my feet on the grass, trying to figure out the constellations. Finley, the brightest of my two cats, is staring at the moon. I wonder if he is sensing a connection to that celestial body. These night animals are special creatures, you know. Watching him basking in his most active time, the night, I realize how Finley is really part of another world. He is nocturnal, and comes alive once the sun has gone down. All his senses go into full gear when the day is over. As my body slows down in the evening in preparation for sleep, (3)his is doing the opposite. If you have a cat, you will have seen this happen. Their pupils dilate, their tales slash from side to side, and they become impatient. The time of dreams and visions falls upon humans, while the primordial instinct to explore, to stalk, and to hunt takes possession of cats. Our little tigers. It makes me realize that only half of my twenty-four hour day is of my dominion, the other half is quite a mystery. What do I really know about the stars, the phases of the moon, or the creatures that are active at night? Not much really. And what of the great subconscious that emerges while our limited consciousness gets sleepy? Lying here, it feels like the damp grass, the soft breeze, the vast sky above, and the movement of animals in the shadows, is all a perfect reflection of my internal world, and the change from one dominion to another: consciousness to subconsciousness, day to night, a beautiful balance of life in one turn of the planet.
Grammar Points.
By Anna4.7
2929 ratings
Peace. Imagine this: a cool evening, a quiet street, no one around, birds already asleep in the darkened trees, a blanket on the grass, the stars appearing overhead, and a cat by your side. Can you feel it? My cup of decaf is already cold, ignored. I'm too enthralled by what I can see and feel. The moon is not full tonight, but is extremely bright. My mind (1)wanders over the night sky, until I sense the warmth of the quiet feline who has placed himself gently next to me. The nights here in North Central Washington are like a sensory sanctuary, at least for me. When the farenheits dip down into the lower seventies and then continue to decrease, I can finally surface. Even my mother, who is from Spain, doesn't make an appearance outside until it is cool enough. Everything about me seems to resist the extreme heat of the day; I must be the opposite of a lizzard. (2)There is no basking on a rock for me. The shade is what I like. And so, of course, night time is even better. It surprises me, actually, that more people are not outside. In the UK, if ever we get a warm or dry evening, most people make the most of it by staying outside, either eating, drinking in a pub, or just lingering with friends and family. It's a rare treat.
So, here I am with my feet on the grass, trying to figure out the constellations. Finley, the brightest of my two cats, is staring at the moon. I wonder if he is sensing a connection to that celestial body. These night animals are special creatures, you know. Watching him basking in his most active time, the night, I realize how Finley is really part of another world. He is nocturnal, and comes alive once the sun has gone down. All his senses go into full gear when the day is over. As my body slows down in the evening in preparation for sleep, (3)his is doing the opposite. If you have a cat, you will have seen this happen. Their pupils dilate, their tales slash from side to side, and they become impatient. The time of dreams and visions falls upon humans, while the primordial instinct to explore, to stalk, and to hunt takes possession of cats. Our little tigers. It makes me realize that only half of my twenty-four hour day is of my dominion, the other half is quite a mystery. What do I really know about the stars, the phases of the moon, or the creatures that are active at night? Not much really. And what of the great subconscious that emerges while our limited consciousness gets sleepy? Lying here, it feels like the damp grass, the soft breeze, the vast sky above, and the movement of animals in the shadows, is all a perfect reflection of my internal world, and the change from one dominion to another: consciousness to subconsciousness, day to night, a beautiful balance of life in one turn of the planet.
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