Just a quick post today. I saw the trailer for Where the Wild Things Are over the weekend.While I'm mildly interested...there's a bigger part of me doesn't want to see it. Even if they do have a large part of the trailer devoted to Maurice Sendak Himself calming me down and trying to convince me It Is Okay With Him.
I have my own ideas about the book, and so I'm not sure putting specifics to what I heretofore had been busy IMAGINING is such a good idea. I know...I know...I'm always so contrary. But I'm sick of things from my childhood getting bought and sold back to me. Frankly.
This post is, I guess, about nighttime...and the stillness and starry-ness and wildness of the countryside which I miss a great deal. Night used to seem different. Whether it was that I was younger, that crickets were louder, or simply that there wasn't as much light and noise in the world...I don't know. Anyway, I'm heading up to the lake this coming weekend...and I am looking forward to those beautiful, cool nights that signal the coming of fall...while it's a melancholy time, it's also a time of richness, depth, mystery, harvest and adventure.