The flower might be a rose — let’s say it’s wild, uncultivated, madly scented, and that you’ve come upon it on a path near a river. Or it might be a prize dahlia, or a humble marigold — and suddenly you’re on your knees, sniffing the clover in your lawn — honey, you think — and in that moment you are a bee — a reasoning bee, a bee with […]
When I water our smaller, more delicate seedlings and plants, I use a child’s little blue watering can embellished with a smiling green frog. Not only does the can sprinkle well, the drops are tiny enough not to batter the plants. And inside, the water is refreshing and clean — I can see right through to the blue bottom and sides. I suppose it holds about a quart. Such a […]
Although I’ve recorded and published many dreams, I have not written about sleep itself more than to say in passing that I slept poorly or I slept well, which is, really, a way of avoiding the subject. What a terrible night, I say, — and then move on to other things. Or, That’s the best I’ve slept in forty years, as if I could remember each and every night, and […]
The distance between our farm and the next town was about eight miles. There was a place by the railroad tracks there where we bought hundred-pound sacks of three-grain and chicken feed. Opening a new sack of either was like opening a can of coffee: it was impossible to inhale enough of the simple-complex aroma. But how long has it been since we had goats and chickens? Let’s see . […]
About two weeks and twenty entries in, I can pause here a moment and say that I like this new website. Not only has working on it been a positive, enjoyable experience right from the beginning, but to my eye, at least, the navigation and appearance are as simple as its purpose. I love that there are no visual distractions, and that there is plenty of breathing room for the […]
2018
Drawing is being born, and the artist is the child,
already on to other things.
Canvas 1,180
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We parked in the lot near the immense black walnut tree. Its shade is dense this time of year, the moss on its massive trunk and lower branches still green. We’ve seen it in all seasons. We’ve seen it bare in winter, and in its golden profundity in fall. And it’s clear in its presence that wisdom isn’t something one seeks, because it is here. And only the mind is […]
Coffee on, I was reading near the open front window this morning at a little after four, when a robin started singing, either from the lush volunteer cedar near the walk, or from the roof, or from the tall juniper directly across from the window and behind the dahlias. I couldn’t quite tell, but its voice was so joyous and so loud, all I could do was stop and listen. […]
When clearing tight small areas of debris, I use our grandson’s miniature rake. When I walk, I notice that most other yards have no tight small areas, because the machines the owners use to maintain order have destroyed them, or otherwise dictated their absence. The standard result is one uniform yard, whereas, when I work outside, I see multiple yards, I see worlds within worlds, I see light and shade […]
Strawberries. Blueberries. Blackberries. Cherries. I could spend the next hour experimenting with the order of those four words, to see and hear which looks and sounds best with the color, flavor, and meaning they convey — or the next week, and the next, until berries and cherries give way to melons and peaches. And if I say it’s a listening thing, the falling of water on rocks and the crack […]
William Michaelian 