By Emily Dickinson
Lightly stepped a yellow star
To its lofty place,
Loosed the Moon her silver hat
From her lustral face.
All of evening softly lit
As an astral hall —
"Father," I observed to Heaven,
"You are punctual."
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Monday was not the most exciting of days. Around work and chores, I decided I needed to reorganize my music collection -- I had stuff in the Downloads folder and the iTunes folder and the Amazon MP3 folder and the Emergency Phone Music folder and various other non-consolidated places, and iTunes helpfully lost all my playlists the last time it updated -- which resulted mostly in my playing with Spotify, Google Music, and Amazon Cloud Player to try to determine which would be best for uploading my most important stuff, with no conclusions. (Does anyone know how much space Google Music is going to give us for free when it's out of beta? And does anyone know how to tell how much music in total we actually have on Amazon's Cloud now that they're letting everyone temporarily upload unlimited music for free?) Then I also have Pandora-Slacker redundancies and assorted V Cast stuff that came with my phone, so I never know what to put on.
We thought Paul's brother David might be coming for dinner and to stay the night -- as is standard for him we only learned that he was coming into town 24 hours before -- but his flight was delayed and he had to be in Cumberland early Tuesday, so he ended up not driving all the way out here (we may go see him for dinner while he's working up there later in the week). My mother took Daniel to play miniature golf in the afternoon, while Adam went to the track and I took a walk in the woods (the deer are getting more and more brazen about eating the grass right next to the road). We watched Warehouse 13's Shofar-from-Hell episode, though it had Helena which is always a good thing, then we watched Polar Bear: Spy on the Ice, which I originally recorded because it was narrated by David Tennant, though it turned out to be enormously entertaining just because the bears are adorable and it was really well filmed. Some more Kill Devil Hills photos:
Pelicans fly over the beach at sunset.
A gull steals a potato chip from an unattended picnic.
Adam holding a mole crab I scooped out of the sand. (Don't worry, we always put them back a minute later.)
Pelicans swooping over the ocean to fish.
A beach chair with flamingo clips.
Gulls wait for either the return of the jumping fish or the return of people with Cheetos.
Dusk behind the beach.
And, after dark, a ghost crab caught in a flashlight beam.
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