ADVENT 2005
BY
WILLIAM H. H. REES
Bill Rees, a businessman in New Haven, was chairman of two of our Class Reunions, the
20th and 25th. He is also – privately – a writer of poetry, drama, and prose. "I do not think this
piece is poetry: it is more like a diary," Bill writes. "The endeavor was similar to that of Henri
Cartier-Bresson [the photographer]. While I did not prowl for 'images a la
sauvette,' I did remain
in heightened expectation for that 'decisive moment.' And, as with Cartier-Bresson, evidence
would come usually in a flash, with no opportunity for a series, for the most part while driving in
winter darkness. Only one or two would appear in a day, and there were days when none
appeared or went unnoticed. I have written and printed a dozen others with drawings by artistic
friends and distributed them. I prefer not to include an explanation of Advent or the significance
of the various numbers."
11/27/2005: in a dream in the early morning, at Yale waiting for a car to be repaired at a nearby
gas station and asking directions to the Sterling Memorial Library, to read today's newspapers, am
directed to take the number 9 elevator to the 7th floor, and walking to the elevator, thinking how
things have changed, that the reading room was always on the first floor; and, later in the evening, on the way to St. Mary's, a police car with lights flashing suggest something that maybe the flashing lights on the back of a pew across the aisle, which it appears is the result of a child kicking his/her foot the reflects the overhead lights, when, during the sermon our anticipation of the coming of Christ, a doll appears beside the man blocking the sight of the child; not an ordinary doll but an approximate 12 inch doll of a king, as if one of the Magi, who after the birth of Christ, sought Him out;
11/28/2005: in the evening, thinking that, after the docent in the Guggenheim Museum had
finished informing a group, there to see the painting exhibit from Russia, that the monks had
controlled Russia for 800 years, which was longer than they controlled any other nation, the
comments of a nearby lady to her male companion about a book she had just read that was not
very meaningful in which a woman described what her life was like in a previous existence; and,
at night, while humming "Oh come, oh come, Emmanuel" in the three light bulbs of the floor
lamp in a dark room turned on by a mere touch of the hand on the lamp, when a small knob
always had to be turned three times to light all three bulbs;
11/29/2005: explaining on the telephone in the late afternoon to a representative of The Vanguard
Group that an error had been made by our reception of information on another man's account and
that were 4 similar telephone calls in the past when the light in the room immediately darkened, as
though it there had been two lights lit and one had been shut off, but there was only one light lit
and it was still on;
11/30/2005: in the early morning, driving on Elm Street past three trucks parked in tandem on the
left hand curb with their lights flashing, when a white car passes and pulls up beside a black car
driving in the center lane before turning into a street on the left just before the black car pulled
into the left lane and stopped at an important intersection forcing me to swerve into the center lane
as another white car passed on my right,
12/01/2005: in the morning, in a large branch with two limbs in the top of a bush, like the antlers
of a jolly green reindeer; and, later in the morning, in the tube of toothpaste on the bathroom sink
that points to words and images on the San Francisco coffee mug beside it, to a pink cloud, above
"arts" and "fog", above an image of a blue trolley car, above "cable car";
12/02/2005: in the moose head on the Elks Club with echo antlers, the flag pole on its right with
an American flag and on its left a pole without a flag or maybe with the sky as its flag; and
minutes later, the Terex crane at a 45 degree angle with a square wire box at the top beside the
three flood lights for a parking lot;
12/03/2005: in the two articles on the side of the street no doubt for a bulk pickup, an easy chair
and a tread mill, with right brace support missing, and across the street in the two highway plastic
cones, one with a ring on the top and the other without one;
12/04/2005: no apercu today, except to learn the meaning of the word "apercu", a revealing
glance, seemed appropriate to Advent encounters; although the bird perched on a branch under an
umbrella of the rhododendron, as the snow fell, perhaps confused, was a beautiful sight, indeed;
12/05/2005: in the four articles in the dish rack in the left hand kitchen sink: a glass desert bowl
and a red scouring pad of plastic, both round and the same size, on the right, directly opposite a
blue and white dish cloth folded in a square on the left beside a blue rectangular sponge, its two
sides longer sides only slightly longer than nearby square;
12/06/2005: in the record of the transaction on 12/01/2005 of the purchase by $1000 of 31.626
Wellington shares for a price of $31.62: the dates add to 3 and 1 and 7; the digits of amount of the
purchase to 1; those of the price per share add to 12 and then to 3; those of the number of shares
add to 18 and then to 9; and in the name that are 10 letters which add to 1; a most remarkable
coincidence, if it is indeed a coincidence;
12/07/2005: in the two black pieces of tire in the side of the turnpike in Delaware, one a rectangle
and the other an upright "U" as in "you", and minutes later another piece of tire as a "U" with a
silver streak, lying on its side; later, in an elevator at the Katzen Arts Center, one young woman is
overhear saying to another: "You can sing. You can sing the contralto's part. Do it this weekend."
To which the other replies: "But, first I have to get rid of Grandma."
12/08/2005: in the piece of square newspaper on the sidewalk in front of the Westville branch of
the Post Office, inside a square segment of cement, beside a yellow piece of plastic in the shape of
a "C", and across the street in the weather beaten cardboard box tacked to a telephone pole for no
apparent reason, inside of which is also tacked a strip of cardboard, folded in thirds, with the both
ends extended as if arms that are reaching out from within a cape or cloak; and, an hour later,
compelled to return there to mail another letter, in the young woman standing beside the pole,
talking on a cell phone holding an square, gray envelop in the same hand which covered the
bottom half of her face;
12/09/2005: in the fall of a small square cloth to the right of the sink, in the evening, and in the
small blue plastic "C" at the bottom of the waste basket on the left, probably the seal for some
bottle, accompanied by three q tips, within bag from Target, now used as a refuse container,
covered with red circles around a red dot in each center, the logo for that discount store;
12/10/2005: in the sign with an arrow pointing in the direction of a yellow construction vehicle, its
fork lift down to form a triangle with the nearby snow bank, with "Deere" painted on its side;
12/11/2005: in the small piece of red yarn on the shirt on the right side, above the heart, in the
shape of an "x", which forms a "p" on a lower part of the shirt, after it has been flicked away; and,
later, in the small green leaf, in the shape of a mandorla, on the sidewalk, one cusp pointing to a
snow bank and the other to a rose bush with similar green leaves surrounded by snow;
12/12/2005: in the small two poster frames on Whalley Avenue, the larger one on the top is open
with no advertisement, just the frame, while the smaller one beneath it has a "For Sale" notice;
12/13/2005: in the yellow ribbon around a large tree trunk with a hunk of snow, somewhat like a
circle, on both the tree and the ribbon, as though the shield on a boxing champion's belt; and,
later, in the three persons standing together on Edgewood Avenue, across from Edgewood School,
the second being about a foot shorter than the first and the smallest about two and one half feet
shorter that the first, and standing between them, the top of their heads forming a check mark, if
one were to be drawn;
12/14/2005; in the piece of string on the basement stairs in the form of a crozier, with the top, the
"C", on the edge of the third step and the rest stretching to the edge of the fourth;
12/15/2005: in the shadow of the triangular top of the Hall of Graduate Studies on the tower of
Morse College, beside it, and in the shadow of the moving clouds on the Payne Whitney
Gymnasium, across the street; and the echo in two dials on the dashboard, the one to gage the fuel
in the tank is lit, while the one beside it on the speedometer to gage the speed is constantly
flickering;
12/16/2005: in the "Sincerely Yours" written on the window of a beauty salon on Chapel Street
next to a sign on the side of the building: "Church of God in Christ" and an arrow pointing to the
rear;
12/17/2005: in the twelve cat's paw prints of a neighbor's cat on the windshield en route to the
warmth of the front hood; and, later, in the user friendly can of sand at a 45 degree angle with the
sidewalk and the empty whiskey bottle lying underneath, as an ambulance speeds by, its red lights
flashing;
12/18/2005: in the "C" of "court/work" on a card that was filed in haste between the card for
"word" and for "world" in a file of words on cards, instead of the "work/court" card, the "Word"
is Christ who comes into the "world" on Christmas;
12/19/2005: in the "Dove" truck that stopped at a red light on Whalley Avenue, after the rear end
lights on another truck parked on the side of the were flashing and after the traffic lights were now
flashing caution lights, on the very busy intersection of the Boulevard and Whalley Avenue, and
after the car seemed to want to drive down Whalley and not make the turn down Goffe Street, the
"Dove" appearing on the side of the truck over "Vinyl Windows", echoed in the license plate
"Yse 9747", "Yes, the struggle is with the '4' and the '977' ";
12/20/2005: in the string of lights on the decoration above the front door of a house on Chapel
Street in the form of an inverted "V", with one strand out on the right side, as though an inverted
check mark, as though the sky had received a passing grade;
12/21/2005: in the sign, probably for directions on an exit from the Oak Street Connector beside
the New Haven Coliseum, the bottom half of which has already been demolished, the white back
partially covered at the bottom by a black plastic wrapper, held up by eight pieces of gray masking
tape, with three on the top, perhaps holding the black wrapper over the front; and, later, in the
three pennies in the parking lot of the Best Buy on the Boston Post Road, shining in the morning
sun, beside a pack of Newport Cigarettes, probably empty; and in the letters on the building across
the street, in the afternoon, from a certain spot in front of the main entrance of the Yale-New
Haven Hospital, visible on the left side of a pole and on the right side between the pole and the
edge of the building that obstruct the complete view of the title: "Canc…Cent…", the "a" & "c"
verses the "e" and "t", the "Almighty" and "Christ" verses the "Earth" and "Temporality";
12/22/2005: in the three shots of Novocain in a dentist's chair followed by the grinding sound of a
drill and, a few minutes later, in the sheering sound of another drill while water is being sprayed
into the mouth; later, in the string of lights placed at random on a bush, which takes the form of a
fish, beside a model of a deer in white lights; and, later, in the three seeds which bounce off the
bottom of the sink and jump into two basins nearby, one into one and two into the other, while
eating a tangerine and letting two dozen or so of the seeds fall into the kitchen sink with a garbage
disposal; and in the emails sent to 21 classmates regarding a book exhibit and to 3 wives of
classmates;
12/23/2005: in the "wheat" on a yellow wrapper, probably of a loaf of bread, to which a small
empty whisky bottle points, in the gutter on Dixwell Avenue, near another larger empty bottle,
probably a beer bottle, half covered by ice; and, later, in the dozens of small American flags,
flapping in the wind, except for the three on the end, still and peaceful;
12/24/2005: in the small green triangle, left from wrapping a Christmas present, that had fallen
next to a white triangle in the design of the fabric of the chair, while Messiaen's "Vingt Regards
sur L'Enfant Jesus" is playing on the recorded; and, minutes later, in the three long packages and
large bag which the lady next door carries to her garage, after discarding the bag in a black
garbage can, followed by meeting her husband on the front walk after she had removed her child
from their mini van , when all three, then, enter their home;
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