All moments of time have coexisted simultaneously…
~ W.G. Sebald, Austerlitz
Late September bluffs its way to a reprise of summer’s dog days. The weather prophets promise a triple-digit apocalypse tomorrow. I only hope it will be the Last Judgment and that autumn will arrive near schedule. Half asleep at midnight I can almost believe in the simultaneity of things. I hear out-of-season visitors in the willows: the mockingbird, the storm. By noon I’ve lost my faith.
