Posted by: normanlgreen | October 4, 2011

Dream, October 4, 2011 tiled roof and 78rpm


Dream, home 5:10 am

The University of California at Berkley has called me over for a brief visit. I am to work with the data archives, decompressing files which have been created using a new, more efficient system of compression. I find their new system has many good points and a few irritations.

Taking a break for a walk around the campus, I pass many students and professors who walk more slowly than I do. The campus stands in square blocks built into the hill-side, with many brick buildings sharing lots with trees. As I turn a corner to my left, heading further downhill, I pass Ken Burns (this is the week that the prohibition documentary is being aired on PBS) and seeing him starts an old 78 rpm record playing in my head – moderate tempo in A minor, with a strong stride piano holding the foundation for a coronet/trombone duet line.

The sidewalk becomes an unpaved footpath that leads to the edge of a roof of a tiny building, a sturdy shed with terra-cotta shingles on descending series of narrow peaked roofs. I opt for a short-cut across the top of the shed. Though the pitch of the roof from centerline to edge is not deep – less that ten inches drop – I crawl along the ridge line of the first platform on hand and knees. The clay shingles were laid a long time ago, with some moss growing where they overlap, and the pieces on the outside edge appear to be crumbling.  I lower myself down to another roof/platform and then another.  Reaching the edge I see there is a wicked drop to pavement below.  I listen to the music in my head instead of jumping.

Advertisements

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s

Categories

%d bloggers like this: