After it got dark last week, I stuck around after all. Bug spray made it so much more pleasant than a few weeks ago. That was the first time I saw the Milky Way since getting the scope. I won’t drone on about it, but the entire night was infinitely superior to sitting in my hotel on a screen. There was a mountain blocking the view of Saturn that night, but I set up in the backyard on Saturday night and had a great view. I am going out this week and should have room again to take it. If I leave early enough, I will have time on the way out to stop at the rest stop to walk the path.
I discovered that a former coworker was found dead in his truck from a heart attack on Saturday. He always said he would work until the day he died. It’s too bad that it happened when he did. He was 62, stubborn, and refused to see a doctor about anything. He spent the last few years of his life seeing fresh sights on the open road, free from family obligations and office drudgery. I was told it must have happened quickly, which is a mercy.
This entry is being written in my journal. The first entry in this book is July 1, 2007, and there is about another year’s worth of pages left, depending on how often I write. I think I will do one of these series every season—entries as often as possible, chronicling my current state of life. I can already tell this serves the initial purpose of re-igniting my creative juices. My frame of mind isn’t now a question of if I will write or do something else. It is a matter of what I will write about in the time I have. Skye will return from her evening neighborhood jaunts at any moment, so I will end here.
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