What I remember most about my birthdays, is how quickly I forget them. The last day of January in the southern part of Sweden is almost never white with snow, I don’t recall how snow can be carved like silver in a moonlit luminescence. I have never skied and very rarely skated. On my thirtieth birthday I was working late. The day after I would defend my thesis for a PhD. At home my family was preparing food for the party afterwards, while I prepared for tomorrow’s dissertation. The suddenly an email arrived: “Your paper’s been accepted, to be published in Physical Review”, which meant I could do another update to my errata before I left for home. I felt confident that my birthday celebrations could wait until tomorrow.
under leaden skies
my cherry tree’s still sleeping —
counting caws of crows
This is actually a true story. As this was in 1991, I realize it was also very early in communicating by email. But I remember going to bed on my thirtieth birthday, knowing that celebrations would be combined with my dissertation party the day after. Today it’s haibun monday at dVerse, and we write about birthdays and/or super moons. Come join us at 9 PM CET. Here is the reference to my publication.
November 14, 2016