Lucid, inescapable rhythms

Mr. Malleable, Wednesday, has just popped 'round, checking in to see if I feel accomplished so far this week (on the downhill slope toward the weekend) or still trudging up the hill toward mid-week. Suitably both, thank you.

Summer fog swirls lightly around the car on the drive in this morning. It's a refreshing 55° (13° F) so I roll the top back on the Fiat and let the fog slide through the car as I put-put toward campus. The forecast calls for low 80's (or high 20's, F) by late afternoon.

This is what the pace of mid-summer calls for, that calls to me:


Maybe this weekend, if the weather holds. For today: commute. It is unusually early, even for me, so I have most of the roads along my route to myself. I love the regular calls of birds as I pass along, so I lower the volume of the music. Like evenly spaced loud-speakers running the length of a very long transit platform, as one bird's call fades the next one comes into range and takes over, keeping their message unbroken.

V
I do not know which to prefer,
The beauty of inflections
Or the beauty of innuendoes,
The blackbird whistling
Or just after.

And...

VIII
I know noble accents
And lucid, inescapable rhythms;
But I know, too,
That the blackbird is involved
In what I know.
- Wallace Stevens, “Thirteen Ways of Looking at a Blackbird

It is mostly crows, jays, robins, and small songbirds, not blackbirds for my commute, though. Lucid, inescapable rhythms, indeed.

Speaking of rhythm, there sure was a lot of Fountains of Wayne today. Literally every other tune was theirs in this morning's random shuffle.

Today's commute playlist:
- Fleet Foxes: Battery Kinzie
- Fountains of Wayne: I Know You Well
- Brendan James: Begin
- Fountains of Wayne: Hotel Majestic
- The Bad Plus: Flim
- Fountains of Wayne: You Curse At Girls

- Posted via Hermes.