TOO EARLY DAWN

Is that a crane at the intersection? I think it is. It is still too dark to readily discern what those machines are. They have been working up there in the night hours, so as to provide minimal disruption to traffic, and I wonder what impact that has on nearby apartment dwellers. Who are probably peeved as all git-out about it. "We don't need civic improvement, we're quite happy living in third world conditions dammit! Just let us sleep!"

Maybe they spent the hours of construction playing Dungeons and Dragons.

Not something I would do, as such geekery is not my bag.

In any case, I took a nap in the evening, which turned into a full night's sleep, only slightly interrupted by tales of a small piglet with a pick-up truck and rambunctious tendencies who roams around the carpet in my apartment mate's room sowing anarchy and discord.

Some of the stuffed animals on her side are superheroes.
A number are merely rebels and repeat offenders.
Rambunction reigns there.

On my side of the apartment, everybody is a good citizen and considerate of the need for beauty sleep. As you would expect. Nothing but good virtuous heathens here.
Some of them furry.

Over at Powell and Clay just over the hill there's a mural with a poem by Meng Haoran (孟浩然 'maang hou yin') on it. It seems nicely appropriate when roaming the neighborhood with a pipe after getting up too early in the morning.

春眠不覺曉， 處處聞啼鳥。
夜來風雨聲， 花落知多少。
"Slumbering in Spring I was not aware of daybreak, but everywhere there are bird noises; during the night there were sounds of wind and rain; how many flowers have fallen?"
['chuen min pat gok hiu, chü chü man tai niu, ye loi fung yü sing, faa lo ji do siu']


At Stockton Street I headed over to Sacramento to catch the bus back over the hill as I did not feel like tackling the slope. From my apartment mate's room there were beastly noises, she was waking up and the creatures were already rioting.

It is time for another cup of coffee.



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