Dappling green – the sun high enough to penetrate down to
the forest floor - obliquely. Wind rustling the leaves high overhead – seventy
five to a hundred feet skywards. Crows calling to each other. Its too early for
kids to be riding their bikes. A truck drives by. The neighbor left at sun up.
I wasn’t up but the dog was. The trees fork – four or five tines – at
two-thirds their height, then fork again and again like the stalks of broccoli.
A red squirrel is clambering down head first.
A big buck is standing in a clearing. It darts back into the brush. The
breeze in blowing warm or at least verging on warm. It will be getting hot soon. The sun will be shining down from overhead
soon. The night’s moisture will be getting sucked into the atmosphere. I am
having my breakfast. I’m attempting a Ruskin word picture here. How am I doing?
The wind is rustling the leaves and the sun is climbing. A car alarm is beeping.
The dog is lying in my chair (black on black) and is scratching himself. When
he scratches in the trailer his paw thumps against the floor and resonates –
thump thump thump thump, thump thump thump. Woodpeckers are working at
extracting their breakfasts. The first of todays kids are peddling arround the
campground on their bikes, around and around.
They will be at it all day. The leaves are rustling, My dear Alabanda.
As an alternative to failure, man is presented with death
Age with age
Is
different
Is
difference
It’s not what it was
It’s not what it is
It’s not what it will be
There is already a yellowing of the leaves at the tops of
the trees. It wasn’t noticeable yesterday. It rained last night. Maybe some of
the green chlorophyll got rinsed out. It seem early for the leaves to be
turning. Does it have anything to do with the heat and the drought of this
summer? The rain has cleansed the atmphereos and there is a fragrance of
blossoms in the air.
It remains dreary, occasionally it rains. Black squirrels
chatter halfway up the trunks of tall tree trunks, safely out of harm’s way
ready to race up into the crowns.
The rain pounds
Shostakovich echoes
A funk descends
Thank you very much
All day and most of the night
If you must
It rains. It rained all night. The family campers all head
home. Ping, ping, ping. Its not fun
anymore. Everyone is sleepy. This is Michigan.
Leave me alone. I’ll snap and I’ll bite. I swear that I
will. I’m curled up and I am napping. It’s raining. I am passing the time. I’m
asleep. Fine scratch my head, but do it some other time. I’m warning you. No
leave me alone. I’ve got one eye open and on you. Don’t you dare try. Let me
sleep. It a dreary day. I don’t want to get up. I don’t want to go for a walk.
Come back and get me when the sun comes out.
I have to renew my insurance. I was having a dream and I
awoke and remembered that I needed to renew by auto insurance. It has something
to do with the dream. It made sense at the time. I lay there and recalled the
dream and the connection between it and my insurance. It was not a logical connection
and the path was overgrown with weeds but it could be followed and it took me right
to the auto insurance. I went back and retraced my steps several times. Yes, I
would remember and write it down in the morning. No, I didn’t have to get up
and write it down now. I repeated the scenario one more time to make sure. When
I woke up I remembered that I needed to renew my insurance and that there was
some connection with a dream that I had. I rememered that I thought that I
could remember it. It was the dream that reminded me that my insurance was due.
I got out my proof of insurance. It was due to expire in two days. I had put it
on my to-do list back in June and hadn’t thought about it since. I can’t
remember what the dream was about now, but I did remember that I had had a dream and
the dream reminded me that my insurance was due. I called by agent and got it
renewed. E-mail me the proof of insurance as I’m not be where I can get regular
mail.
Her witchy presence waits / for me to jump into her arms,
but – then she’s just / an incoherent ache in sleep’s freaked senses – W S Di
Piero – Nitro Nights, 2011p43
Engel’s Law: the poorer people are the higher the proportion
of their incomes they will spend on food
Many Years Have Passed – Marcel Proust
The effulgence of his name was dampered by the stone upon
his grave.
In the deafness of the eternal sleep he was not importuned
by glory
|
The memory, not yet of the place in which he was, but of
various other places he had lived
And might now very possibly be, came
like a rope let down from heaven
He had lost all sense of the place in which he had gone to
sleep
What one suffers oneself one knows; that is nothing
But we learn noting from any lesson
We have not the wisdom to work backwards
And when he awoke he did not know where he was
The memory of a particular
image is but regret for a particular moment
But then, even in the most insignificant details of our
daily life
|
None of us can be said to
constitute a material whole
He could not be sure at first who he was
Draw me up out of the abyss of not-being
He could not escape by himself
Identity could not be simply be turned up like a page in
an account-book
Or is created by the thoughts of
other people
|
We pack the physical outline of the creature we see
With all the ideas we have
already formed about him
Madmen compel themselves to exclude all other thoughts
from their minds
But yet the sickness of
uncertainty sweeps over them again
Many years have passed.
Anguish lay in knowing there is some place of enjoyment
Where oneself is not and cannot
go
|
The dog and I took our walk down by the lake. We came back by
the equestrian trail making a loop of it. We found a connector even though none
had been designated. It is overcast. Maple trees have overrun abandoned apple
and cherry orchards. There were no cherries this year due to early warming and
a late frost. Green wormy apples litter
the ground.
Do you really think, if you cannot think otherwise?
I came down out of the hills into town to do my laundry and
re-provision. I have already been to the ATM and am now having my breakfast – a short stack with sausage and
coffee. The trees are turning a tinge of green (budding out). Gardens have been
tilled. Every lawn has at least one tree with white blossoms. I see tulip
magnolia in bloom. There is a small lavender flower that blooms on lawns and
fields and looks something like clover.
Boys will soon be out swinging bats and shagging flies.
I get directions to the laundromat, to Price Chopper and to
the Wal-Mart. I’m better at giving directions, she tells me, than at fallowing
them. And you are good at drawing maps, I tell her. I can do much better, she
says, this one is a little scrunched up. I’m at the laundromat. I’ve gotten
everything but the beer. That’s next. I can’t get any beer. This county is dry,
I am told. When I get back Beast (Ed’s big dog) is trashing about in Long Pool
next to my tent.
Ah, how unnecessary
I don’t say that things have gotten worse,
Merely that they say that the young
Wouldn’t notice if they had
That would have let in too much reality,
Let in the present tense
The future pluperfect
And maybe everyone will have
Had their
own private name for it,
So that would mean that no
Common name was required
‘That’s what Bill use to say’.
Bill never said
anything of the kind,
As far as anyone could be remember,
Except for
you
But his posthumous corroboration
Was useful when she was flustered
Afterwards,
Getting what you want
All the time
Is very close to
Not getting what you want
At any time
Blame someone else,
That’s always the your first instinct.
And if you can’t blame someone else,
Then start claiming the problem
Is their
problem, not yous.
Rewrite the rules.
Shift the goal posts
Ah, how unnecessary
Travel is a kind of
delinquency, more often rooted in the compulsion to escape then it is in any
serious desire to scale the Great Pyramid of Cheops – Jonathan Raban – Driving
Home, 2010 p155
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