I have had the leisure of a year in these woods – some weeks, every day – to watch and learn and assume their changes. Meaning, I’m turning.
My insecurity over income – as for antiques as a line, seems akin to Swami Rudi and his disciple (the routes not taken!) …
At least I was on unemployment compensation.
The dripping wet richness of these soils.
Meeting, with all the people I wanted to get to know better.
Electrical outage: Can’t write, can’t cook, TV won’t work, music’s silent, too dark to read. Our life has come to this?
Horses can tear up trails, too.
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We lived on Leonard Springs Road, named for a ravine and at the time hidden cave beyond our home. My frequent explorations inspired a set of poems, which can be found at my Thistle Finch blog. The terrain, which included the then breached city water reservoir, has now become a public park, as you”ll find in a photo album at Thistle Finch. The woods had more than its share of trash at the time.
Images by Vmenkov via Wikimedia Commons.
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Don’t remember this, must have been a Mtg picnic at the Dietz’:
Crazy sunfish, or some other board with two sails, won’t steer right, won’t steer left, the wind’s unsteady, shifting, blowing us over again and again.
We can’t go back, keep going in circles.
Two hours in May, cold lake water, chilled to bone before we run ashore on the dam.
Bill comes out in his outboard boat to tow us back.
A hot shower, group hug, and two cups of coffee couldn’t warm us from that.
Half of our goods packed, not knowing whether we’ll be here or faraway – no way to plan.
Kat upset (but trying not to show it) because her husband is a bum (she keeps wanting to see me working around the house, but I feel cramped in/crammed in) … I’m wondering how inert a human can be … she’s not working at her art, either …
A break in the 90-degree weather: “bearable, even pleasant like Upstate bright sunlight amid small clouds.
~*~
From Spiralbound Hoosier, with commentary from now.
Jnana's Red Barn 