Saturday night

saturday night

10.19.13  Saturday night in mid-October.  Garrison Keillor’s Prairie Home Companion radio program always starts with the song, “It’s Saturday night, the band is playing, who could ask for anything more.”  We usually do something different on Saturday nights, even if it’s just watching a Netflix movie on TV.  Alone in the house on this past Saturday night, there were so many things I was going to do.  Write the great American novel; finish the book I’ve been reading about the distance between oceans; do a watercolor painting from one of my photographs.  But, in the end, all I could bring myself to do was sit with my glass (plural) of wine, curl up in the wool tartan throws on the sofa, and listen to the tick tock of the grandfather clock.  It takes a good two hours on these October evenings for the light to leave the water and sky, so I just watched the golden light bounce off the liquid silver lake as the sun, now so low in the sky, sank behind the mountains.    At the end of the show,  there’s not much time left to do anything else but crawl into the feather bed and watch for the light of the Hunter’s Moon to illuminate the sky before drifting into sleep.

The lovely light will be gone soon enough.  When daylight savings time comes to an end in a few weeks, the sunset (when there’s light in the sky) will take place before I can get dinner on the table.  In the long long dark nights to come, there will be plenty of time for the books and movies, the projects, making big pots of soups, and that no-knead bread recipe I’ve been wanting to try.  This has been a splendid way to spend a Saturday night in the second half of October–who could ask for anything more.

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