Pleasant Speeds

Later this morning, I will be seeing my lovely wife and energetic son off. They will be taking a plane to Japan. The land of moon viewing.

And there are the trains there, between Tokyo and to Yokohama and beyond, which run local and express, and one that is faster still. It is called "Pleasantly Fast Express." I like that name.

I have been up working and typing here, in the late night; comparing the different speeds Feuermann and Casals take with Bach's Air in G; and I am distractedly watching the moon like a scientist between times, struggling to see if I can actually notice her moving.

But the moon is too slow for me to see move across the sky.

There! No, I think I just imagined it.

And, as if to taunt me further, a small mouse blurs across my floor too quick for my eyes, like a magician's trick.

But now, I am comforted to watch the pleasantly slow moving clouds which have appeared and are moving in front of the moon, like a curtain at the ballet.

I see the moon snuff out like a candle, a smokey glow left nearby.

I keep at my works and eventually look up again. My companion has returned, definitely further to the west in the sky.

We used to play red light, green light as kids, where you only moved when the watcher had his back turned. The moon has been playing this game with me, no?

Well, she has won. I need to retire before I forfeit all my night's sleep. And the yellow disk has finally hid behind the building wall as I finish.

There is a trick I could have used at the end - if I hadn't been engaged in writing this for you. If you imitate the coming of an eclipse by positioning yourself so the moon touches the edge of the window or another building's side, you can see it melt, eclipse. You can notice it move.

But she has won.