Equinocalypso

This morning I realized we had passed the equinox. So did Roy. Do great minds truly think alike? Actually, no, but sometimes they do go side by side down the same freeway.

What caused this epiphany was a left turn on the way to work. I turned directly into the rising sun. I don't clean my Jeep often enough and the buildup of grime on the windshield refracted the incoming sunlight into a thousand orange and yellow beams and I couldn't see the road. Just a double yellow line undulating on the road's gentle hills into a bright and mysterious oblivion. Rather like my life. But then I noticed, as I notice such things, that the double yellow line didn't aim directly into the sun. The sun was a wee bit off to the right. These roads were laid down by late 19th Century real estate speculators in a strict compass-oriented grid imposed on the landscape. So I knew the sun was rising a wee bit to the south of true east. Four days' worth, apparently.

The sky was prettier an hour earlier when I took my son to water polo practice. Three and a half dozen stars shone in the deep blue deeps like little diamonds. Well, they did. I don't care how trite that sounds, it was true. What, I need to come up with something better? Okay, uh, the stars were like little tiny lights way up in the sky. Better?

p.s. - I made up the post title before writing it. I don't know what it means. Equinox, apocalypse (no reason), calypso, I don't know. But it'll do.