I didn’t learn to type in school. With the help of a book from the public library, I taught myself when I was in my early thirties. Prior to that, I used the time-honored hunt-and-peck system. I’m a fair typist, not a good one. I can type these lines without looking at the keys. But if I need to incorporate numbers, I have to look down. Once many years ago, […]
Near the receding edge of lily-infested Goose Lake, in the brambly shadows just beyond the dense growth of Wapato now in flower, there’s a casual assemblage of Bittersweet nightshade. The shoreline, such as it is, and visible nowhere, has retreated about forty feet — normal for the time of year — at this one remaining place of access. On the far side, seen through one gap, is another colony of […]
I know nothing of heroism, bravery, or courage. I simply try to do what’s called for or needed. To do that, I must recognize that need. And the need is always present; it arises anew each and every moment. So I, too, must be present. And I can’t be present if I’m chasing half-truths and recycled thoughts, or laboring in defense of my own self-made legend. I might rescue someone […]
There was a little rain yesterday, and some again last night. At six this morning I swept the driveway. Then I swept the sidewalk, which was covered with a nice accumulation of fine needle growth from the juniper. The sidewalk, being mostly shaded most of the time, is quite mossy. It’s also in fairly rough shape, with pits and divots where stones have worked their way free from the concrete. […]
Whatever we anticipate, whatever we dread or desire — good, bad, peace, strife, difficulty, ease, agitation, calm — might or might not come to pass. We can, in other words, be floating on a cloud or tied in knots by something that doesn’t exist. And when we’re caught up in this state, what do we miss? Everything — even this: a tiny bird, drinking rainwater from an ivy leaf. June […]
After some time away, I’ve drifted back into Emerson’s journal, where, after reading for a while today, I found myself on Page 590 of the first volume of the two-volume Library of America edition. This time around, the searching sweetness of his observations makes me feel like a butterfly or hummingbird; his hesitations, confessions, and insights are flowers. It’s a springtime, summertime reading. Our grapes are in bloom. After losing […]
last year’s apples — this year’s prices — like the other thoughts I set aside March 29, 2021 Canvas 872 April 6, 2017 . [ 1061 ]
before / after / the wind / no wind January 2, 2021 Canvas 503January 2, 2015 . [ 974 ]
In the dark chill, between boughs, a thought not quite a thought moves — flutters, falls . [ 942 ]
In this wet and windy weather, it’s lucky the neighbor’s fir trees haven’t blown over and landed on our house. Day by day, the yard and roof are strewn with more branches. New gaps and sky-patches have appeared in the trees, which allow the wind to pass through them, and keep the trees from having to absorb its full impact. And as I gaze up at them and listen to […]
