Yesterday, I began work at 9:30 in the morning, and (barring a break of a few hours midday) worked until midnight. I have to confess, though, that the day was fantastic. The morning was occupied by event logistics, there was a special program taking place on site. Basically, my job was to move people from one place to another- to herd cats, so to speak. While a pedestrian task, I did scope out a couple of wild raspberry patches on-site, for late-summer foraging.
Yestereve, a group of visitors came to the job site for a rare overnight stay. The evening began on a less-than-promising note, as bands of thundershowers moved through the region. By the time our guests got settled in, the skies cleared up- a fortunate occurrence, as last night the moon was full. The storm having passed, I prepared a campfire for our guests, so they could enjoy a few hours of music and storytelling. In a surprise twist of fate, my brother Vincenzo, sent back East by Uncle Sam to train young soldiers for the vicissitudes awaiting them in Iraq and Afghanistan, was in the area, having driven a comrade to Newark airport for emergency family leave. The site director, an old family friend (I landed this job by helping her with event logistics for a major annual event, leading her to introduce me to my department head), was happy to have my brother "crash" the event for a couple of hours. This was work, catching up with one of my brothers, listening to the sweet singing of our guests, under the light of a glorious full moon, the merry dancing light of the campfire... I have never believed in ghosts, (though my parascientific knowledge and use of psionic hardware has led me to believe in the existence of orbs) but we were in one of the few places on Earth which genuinely seems to host a genius loci, though such a spirit, unlike that in Clark Ashton Smith's story, would be a completely benevolent presence, a gentle, joking avuncular eidolon, one which would heartily approve of song and cheerful fellowship.
At midnight, I introduced the chaperones of the group to my relief, and went home, only to return nine hours later. Our guests were still on-site, so I was able to bid them a fond farewell as they walked to the train station, singing.
Yes, the schedule has been hectic, but the actual work has been idyllic... it's been hecdyllic, which sounds like an adjective describing a metrical foot.