The Last Day of the Year

The last day of the year. In the morning I walked in the hotel gardens. The air was cool, still, damp from rain in the night, almost no one stirring. A brown rabbit left the brick pathway and moved into the base of a row of shrubbery. A bird flew up – black, with a blur of russet wings, reminding me of a sad-eyed, perhaps larger bird I had seen once years ago, in Goa.

Yesterday I tried to take pictures of an after-party scene: a row of covered chairs, arranged as if in spectral conversation, tawdry in sunlight, with a burnt candle and discarded flowers. In my mind I sang

The party's over, the candles flicker and dim... (lyrics below, from here)

But my camera saw only this:

So, quiet, endings, and a song, on the last day of the year.

Listen to The Party's Over.

Lyrics:

The party's over, it's time to call it a day
They've burst your pretty balloon
And taken the moon away
It's time to wind up the masquerade
Just make your mind up
The piper must be paid

The party's over, the candles flicker and dim
You danced and dreamed through the night
It seemed to be right just being with him
Now you must wake up, all dreams must end
Take off your makeup, the party's over
It's all over, my friend

The party's over, it's time to call it a day
They've burst your pretty balloon
And taken the moon away
Now you must wake up, all dreams must end
Take off your makeup, the party's over
It's all over, my friend
It's all over, my friend