Friday, March 9, 2012

reading the above

Instead I pointed to the sky, pointed to the North Star always glowing steadily even when the moon went away or moved in the sky, and I traced the Dippers for him, mimed drawing water from a river, showed him how the handle of the Dipper pointed to the North Star, constant in her place. I stood from the ground, adopted the Archer's stance, indicated the starry belt and showed the boy how the Archer hunted in different parts of the sky with the change of the seasons, finding what fare he could amid the heavens. There in the sky, hovering over the edge of the horizon, was the red, red glow of Mars, and I took out the papers again, and showed the boy my drawings of Mars in the night sky.

"Mars," I said "Mars, the Warrior, glowing low in the sky under the Archer's feet, the planet of fire and war, the god of action. I wouldn't make him angry, he never forgets and he never forgives, but the Archer is our friend."

The Alexandria quartet / by Lawrence Durrell

between five and six in the evening, the deep orange of the setting sun and silhouettes of tree branches reflect in the windows of buildings : the witching hour of spring