I just realized that I'm the only one who's not  'the One'.  You know: Neo, The Matrix.  The One.  You all saw the movie. You all felt at one with the One. Once upon that time.

But not me.

Instead, I'm just part of the ever-redefining elusive Flux.  You know, the drunken photons dispatched from the Sun for improbable earth impact.

Wham.

Okay, so what?  Somewhere on the shore of Never, I've been tethered forever.

*kiss* upon anyone who also lands on this rock.

I heard a weatherman this morning call it “anemic sunshine”.   But I see it as crystal firelight—this growing incandescence in the northern mid-latitudes that nonetheless seems not to warm the air much (highs only in the 20s yesterday and today) due to deviant polar jet streams and Alberta clippers that keep punching Spring in the gut.  But the shine of sun is not gloomful or dysenergetic.  The dragged-out winter-like blues are the result of the snow and concomitant cold that’s now alien, lost and doomed.  Where throughout the winter the earth numbly succumbed, now it’s steadily rejecting the blanket meteorological sedimentation it’s yet unseasonably getting subjected to.  It’s melting the snow from underneath.  Slowly, true.  Phase change from ice to water, due to what’s described as the latent heat of fusion, requires 160 more times the energy than is required in the pre-phase change to heat ice up a single degree.  Still, the firelight has found earth and is seducing the crystals into slush, one by one, under the outlander cover that’s queered above. One fucking crystal at a time!

The sun was so bright yesterday that I can still visualize most every step of my entire run around Dreamland (7 times).  How dark was my shadow crushing the ground.  How uplifting the crystal firelight bouncing under foot.

Hey, I’m the shadowman again.  And the Sun has my back.