The witching hour

Tomorrow I will find out what's irritating my eye, but for now, I'm just washing it and taking Benadryl to stop the itching. When anything goes even a little wrong with the eye, it's unnerving, these two my windows to everything.

Without fail, without alarm, I wake up at 3:15, every morning.  When I do, I hear the water pipe surge in the wall, as the irrigation system was set to 3:15, morning and afternoon, announcing water's on. But for decades before I had automatic watering, it rarely fails: three-fifteen is wake up time.

Sometimes I read a few pages and fall back to sleep; other times I stay awake, drive to Whataburger, once in a blue moon getting a chocolate glazed donut, and listen to "Hidden Brain" on NPR--all of which I did this morning.

The eyes and the brain, the ears and the taste buds, the heart and lungs--such too-often-taken-for-granted bringers of pleasure.  We rarely consciously think of them unless they act up.

I love looking at faces and flowers and trees, colors and artful spaces!  I love looking at whatever shows up through the moving window of my car, day or night.

Right now, with this tiny floater or scratch or whatever, I get occasional glimpses of a non-existent fly or gnat when I look to the left, sometimes the tiniest flash of light, like a Christmas sparkler.

Ocean Vuong's debut novel, On Earth We're Briefly Gorgeous, is written as a letter to his mother.

          You once told me that the human eye is god's loneliest creation.  How so much of the world passes through the pupil and still it holds nothing.  The eye, alone in its socket, doesn't even know there's another one, just like it, an inch way, just as hungry, as empty.  Opening the front door to the first snowfall of my life, you whispered, "Look." 

I've only read the sample to this novel so far, but Vuong's writing is extraordinarily beautiful, and I look forward to getting the book.  I ordered this sample after hearing him interviewed on "On Being" by Krista Tippet.

It's now 5:18, and the Benadryl is kicking in, so off to bed I go, phone ringer on silent.