Night time is wonderful. There's clarity in the sanctuary of its stillness. I appreciate a night like this, upon which the rain sets a tempo without any rhythm I can acknowledge. It is peaceful and beautiful, and the darkness is only interrupted by the few city lights that remind one of how afraid man can be of the unavoidable dark.
Today was a day of much gratitude. It began with an early start in a sun-filled morning. The day granted its first success in the reconciliation it offered me with a colleague. It continued in the the joys, and not the dredgery of work. And it concluded with nature's rain-making, lazy contemplation and a glass of scotch.
I finished the film "Magnolia" this evening. It was nothing like I would have imagined the film to be from the descriptions offered me by my friends. But I enjoyed it extremely, nonetheless. The movie seemed to dwell on the subject of intrinsic character flaws, and shared them through a not-so-coincidental connectivity of wholly unrelated individuals of troubling, unique lives. I came away with the thought that the essense of being is accepting oneself and others; and that God has a way of making that happen, if even by bold interventions such as raining frogs (I'm sure there's symbolism in this freak occurance of which I've not yet beome aware).
Night is beautiful. And, alas, so is sleep.
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