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a loud start, a lovely start, a sad start

January 1, 2008

There are always plenty of firecrackers on New Year’s Eve– my neighbors see to that, if no one else. Fourth of July and New Year’s, they often carry on for days at a time. However, it always sounds like firecrackers.

Last night it sounded like, well… Ramadi. And it wasn’t the usual suspects, though some of it was so close that a couple of blasts felt like they’d made contact with the house– I actually went out to check. The climax around midnight of course, but continuing on afterwards, with two major siren episodes, one shortly after 12:00, the other an hour or two later.

All of this confirmed by a friend who lives downtown; you could hear all of it everywhere.

This evening, after sunset, I walked around the water district path to see what was up. The air was clear as wine. The grass was green and short; it was too early and too dark to see how the wheat crop’s shaping up. Lying on the path along the way, on its side, was a little bright pink stuffed pig, with one of its ears bitten off on the ground several inches away. It looked very sad– I hated to leave it there, but I had no idea what to do with it. I thought maybe it had fallen out of a stroller, and someone would come back for it.

Or maybe it was some kind of Hogmanay ritual offering.


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