Admittedly, I am a morning person---at my best between the hours of 4 a.m. and 12 noon. My daily exercise consists of a pre-dawn run outside from 4 to 5:30 in the morning. The full moon, as dark clouds flood and recede over it, presents a phantasmagoric kaleidoscope of countenances to my perfervid morning imagination…A year-round Halloween…
First it glows lyrically gothic, a Victorian widow in mourning clothes and veil, who metamorphoses into a grizzled, furrow-browed mobster or worried Wall Street executive, newly indicted. The furrows evolve toward the funny face in the children’s game of iron filings manipulated by a magnetic wand---a Groucho Marx or Charlie Chaplin with antic moustache, to which storm clouds add a false nose and thick, black rimmed spectacles…
Then more somber, the comedians morph to the mustached countenance of a young Wyatt Earp, solemn, stern-faced, considerably more courageous and steady-handed than his enemies, striding to his legendary destiny through the dusty streets of Tombstone with his brothers and Doc Holliday as they head to the shootout near the O.K. Corral…
The next second the moon roars into the striped head of an albino Bengal tiger, which immediately shrinks to the classic black mask of a purloining, mischievous raccoon until the moon sizzles, scored black like the catfish filet from a picnic barbecue grill…
Labels: morning images, morning imagination, morning moon, morning person, morning run
