bright early and eery

the sun is up, but the roosters aren't crowing. it is a gloomy monday morning, the first one since we shifted to daylight savings time and i woke exceptionally early.
the light was still on in the church clock. that pale green smudge of radiance was always something that i dreaded. it's been part of my life since elementary school, part of the morning routine of walking the dog in the cold, before breakfast and school.
now i look at the same spire out a different window as i turn on my computer this morning. there's that piece that i didn't finish last night, and they sent me another text. it will all be over by nine. not bad. i get to finish my work before most people even get to the office...
for some reason i'm thinking about a small circle of people that are presently part of my life. i've been closed up in my apartment for a better part of two-and-a-half months, and my communication has become very limited. aside from mainly communicating by computer, i don't get "out" very much. my thoughts don't get out. they don't get bounced around in space and between people, i don't here them echo, reverberate. but there is the occasional discussion.
i remember one that happened just last night. and a feeling of deja vu sets in. eery. i already have one sibling that i communicate with online - now it looks like (i hope?) i will have another...
in the silence of the monday morning in last october i contemplate my life in a year. i don't plan much. i do what i consider needs to be done and that's it. things get done but i'm often blinded when it comes to what is developing around me. i realize that my family will be a lot different in a year. who knows where the next family dinner will be.
why is it that such toughs only come in solitude and dreary mist? where is that gene and can it be eliminated from the generations to come?
i'm not going to be down. i'm enjoying work, and taking advantage of that.
for the first time (ever/in many years) the leaves are turning color on the trees. small things people don't notice, something the photographer does. now if i only had some sunshine...

someone died.

and that puts a period. it also marks a period.
he claimed that the "final curtain" was the end of a world. each of us is a world. - and it was others' worlds that suffered from one's death. i felt my world tremble. i hadn't seen him in years. i used to go to his home often as a kid. he was the man with the beard and pipe. he was a strange one (not that i didn't meet much stranger people later on).
i didn't attend his funeral - because it was borders away, not because i don't attend funerals. i'm a persons that lives in denial of mortality and death. but i go for the living. occasionally its out of respect for the deceased, to salute and get closure.
closure. i like the sound of that word. klo´zher. 'love the "zh". gives it a burst of energy and then a fade to black.
anyway, i observed the impact that the loss of this world had on people around me. one person in particular. my father lost a friend. he's at an age when you are still not used to losing people around you, not to death at least. i could see his need for reassurance. everything will be ok. it's the way things go. it's not nice, he could have lived to see his youngest son finish school, but life is a terminal disease. but life has so much more meaning than death. death is but a moment. it's how you live that counts. and with that i get on my bike and ride off into the daylight. although i notice every single roadside memorial...