Today was spent inside. Willow lost herself in a Playmobil world of her own creation, with time set aside for reading. I lost myself in a novel called Lucifer's Hammer, written by Larry Niven and Jerry Pournelle and first published when I was 10. It's interesting reading about major disaster striking the planet (in this case, quite literally, in the form of a comet)during the seventies. What was true of survivors then would be doubly true now - the realization that nearly all of the things we take for granted are suddenly in very short supply. The point is brought up several times (by the same character) that we couldn't fix, let alone make, most of the things we use in our everyday lives if they were to break down or vanish. This is something that I often muse about. What always interests me most about stories like this is how the characters react to overwhelming disaster. How does a technological society start anew, or does it? Then again, I have always been interested in sociology, enough so that I majored in it (along with Environmental Studies) in college. In the case of this book, unlike, say, George Stewart's Earth Abides, the survivors are focused on regaining their technology. I could go on about how technology is a mixed blessing, but being surrounded by complicated electricity-sucking devices, it might come across as a bit hypocritical. I'm the first to admit that I often take too much for granted, and this book has me probing that particular back alley in my subconsciousness. Fiction is useful in that way, especially speculative fiction.

Yesterday was different. We actually went out and spent some time in the bone freezing cold (by California standards) at Happy Hollow in San Jose, watching the sleepy Jaguar, restless Fossa, and a trio of uncooperative Capybaras, among others, and chasing after the girls as they excitedly ran here and there. After leaving the park, we walked along the derelict park train tracks under ominous skies. The weather seemed apocalyptic, with a whitish sky that turned slightly orange towards the west. This impression was no doubt bolstered by the fact that many of the redwoods in the park are dead or dying, with removal notices tacked to them.

Currently listening to: Elm "live at WFMU'