The florescent light in the kitchen is making a new racket. We had an earthquake yesterday, so I have a probable culprit. At breakfast it was incessant, the electric buzzing. Every time I moved my head the tone of it changed ever so slightly as my ears gained a new perspective on the noise, a menacing guitar string being fiddled with by a picky player. But the mornings are dark now. It’s Alaska and it’s after the equinox and light is delivered each day only after some labor. I did not want to lose the florescence, buzzing though it was. Finally, though, I broke and committed to sitting in a charcoal sketch of my kitchen as I finished my oats, raisins and milk. And when I killed the noisy light the drop to silence was farther than I'd expected, everything was absolutely still in the apartment, and from outside I could hear the chickadees saying chip chip chip to first light. And there was frost on the alder, I could see now, the faint white crystals reflecting whatever pre-dawn sun they could grasp. Yes that was a good shake yesterday, 6.2 the paper said, a reminder of something forgotten, which knocked the kitchen light out of whack.