The mind dances here and there, rarely in a linear fashion. So what’s on my mind these days? How about counting on these fingers?

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1. As she says, it seemed like a good idea at the time.
2. Still many sailboats out, their sails looking soft, dreamy. Other boats, on their moorings, rock endlessly. Listen to the incoming tide.
3. With the sea haze is pronounced, we can barely see the Isles of Shoals from the mouth of the Piscataqua River. Other times they’re crisp, five miles away – the hotel and conference center/retreat, avian observatory, and White Isle lighthouse, among them. Soon, everything will be deserted for winter.
4. Asked what makes me run, I could easily answer: COFFEE! Actually, it’s often a mystery to me, too.
5. Without a big project going, I feel lost, adrift, directionless.
6. Sometimes that sensation of feeling lost is a fog. When I’m not relating to music, what I hear is mostly noise.
7. One help in revising a long work of fiction, especially, comes in finding its “emotional zipper” – and then everything falls into place as you move along it.
8. Where’s the center of gravity? That is, the central identity or overall impression.
9. Will she realize it’s our anniversary? (She almost always has the date wrong.)
10. How I love the cool, clear days of late summer and early autumn!

~*~

It’s a common real estate question, I suppose: what do you do with an old church? In my newest novel, the family turns one into a rock concert venue, not that unlike the Stone Church in Newmarket, New Hampshire, not all that far from us. Others around here have been turned into homes or apartments. And still others are art galleries or retail spaces. Parking, of course, can be a problem.

Being mindful of what’s right in front of us can always be a challenge. Here are 10 new items from my end.

~*~

1. Some years we use the Smoking Garden more evenings in September than August. Often with a small fire going and sense it may be the last time of the year. How sweet!
2. We have our own taste of the African Queen when we take the fall trip up the river from Portsmouth, starting with the broad harbor that finally narrows just before coming into downtown Dover. It’s a rather amazing midday cruise.
3. Such a joy discovering a masterpiece by sight-reading, the way I did with “There Shall a Star from Jacob Come Forth” from Mendelssohn’s unfinished oratorio, Christus. Much different from listening to a recording or hearing it in concert.
4. Some of the best ocean swimming comes after Labor Day. The water’s finally warmed enough to be comfortable. As for tide-pooling, we still have a wide variety of small crabs. They all move fast when uncovered. But no fiddler crab, so far, despite the title of my poetry collection.
5. There are no lifeguards where I swim in the open Atlantic at a relatively unknown park in Maine. While some of its pocket beaches are sandy, mine’s a field of pebbles. Sunbathing there can be surprisingly comfortable. Now comes the balancing act. While the water’s finally tolerable, even briskly pleasurable, the air can be a tad too chilly.
6. How do “real” writers live in their “free” time? Thought I’d have an answer by now, free from the office. Instead, the right pace and attitude remain a challenging mystery.
7. Still not ready to shave my head, even if I’d look like a Zen monk.
8. The night ocean: a remarkable tint of green.
9. September can be thunder in the distance.
10. Nothing we do goes quite as planned. (Not just the garden, at that.)

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Just a taste of what’s popping up. In case you were looking for a prompt.

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1. In Hebrew, breath and soul share the same word. (And thus, by extension: “I breathe, therefore I am.” As well as, “I breathe, therefore I’m inspired.” Remember, too, God breathed into the first human, Adam, giving humanity life, animation, and awareness.)
2. Without a sense of rhythm, how little progress. Never overlook the drummer.
3. Driving along, we keep laughing as we notice of every barn and not a few houses, as we acknowledge they needed of scraping and painting. As well as reroofing. Of course, we’ve just done ours. For now.
4. They’re canning tomatoes these days. And peaches. Where will they all go?
5. The Style of my own Eye. For now, back to the camera.
6. Regarding the Song of Songs, a voice cries out, “What happens when we lose that Lover?”
7. Watching two girls do the yoga sun salutation sequence on their patio, I find myself with a tinge of anger or disgust – something unexpected and hostile. Along with something else good, all remembering the circle. More centrally, whatever, about Swami that leaves me conflicted.
8. I’m still amazed by the range of color in clear ocean water when I’m tide-pooling in the rockweed. Everything’s so crystalline in brilliant sunlight!
9. A hummingbird at a prayer flag. I suppose it’s mostly about color.
10. The Dover Greek Festival held every Labor Day weekend has introduced me to more than our local Orthodox community. I love the word “kefi” – joy, spirit, happiness, triumph, feeling good, mojo, loving life, and so on. Not a bad outlook on life, when you can.

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Why wait for the dust to settle? Here are 10 bullets from my end.

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1. For two weeks each year, those of us who have annual passes to the city’s indoor pool laps are shifted to the Olympic-size outdoor pool instead. At 50 meters, it’s more than twice as long, a length that can be intimidating. Just eight laps outside equals my 18 laps indoors – a half-mile routine. Already there’s a feeling in the air that summer’s over. Yes, most of the flowers have already gone by. Evenings are cool; nightfall, definitely earlier. But the water’s crisp, and it’s fun anticipating the contrails of a jetliner-a-minute headed in or out of Logan down in Boston – even before you get to the soaring eagles.
2. Reviewing photos of our first years in our house, I find it painful to see how ugly the place was and how much progress we’ve made, still far short of our vision.
3. What would I be doing if I weren’t blogging?
4. In Genesis 3 (the second half of the Eden story), mankind loses its connection with (1) each other, (2) the earth, and (3) its God. One more dimension I’ve overlooked in my monograph!
5. Scratched my arms picking crabapples along the street. They seem to be public property.
6. A possible title, The Echo to Michigan, comes from overhearing, “We could take the Echo to Michigan.” Even that works better than “Toyoto Echo.”
7. My oeuvre, written on the run, on the fly? Catch as catch can.
8. I haven’t really retired but rather switched careers more fully to Quaker and writer. Though it seems there’s still not enough time for either.
9. Sugar Shoes. (Wherever that came from. Wherever it goes.) Pump up the Prayer Flags.
10. Just what kind of economic future are these kids facing?

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Being mindful of what’s right in front of us can always be a challenge. Here are 10 new items from my end.

~*~

1. One definition of high summer for me: going to the beach for a swim at low tide and then stopping at the commercial fish distributor on the way home to pick out three lobsters followed by a stop at a farm a bit down the road for a dozen ears of corn picked just that morning. We’re soon feasting in the Smoking Garden, no problem making a mess. You know, the one-pot cooking thing for starters.
2. Someone’s cell phone goes off during worship, insisting “Please say a command.” On the page of the open Bible next to me is an answer, “That your joy be complete” (Jesus, in the gospel of John). Who’s to argue? Not a bad command, is it?
3. Falling walnuts hit the roof of our kitchen and sound like falling limbs or falling wooden boxes. Just where are our squirrels?
4. The joys of a sharp black fountain pen, excising a draft to lace.
5. There’s a restless in the core of our Seed. Usually, we try running from it. In silent worship, we stop to face it.
6. As a writer, I’m an orphan. And yes, so is the Lone Ranger, once unmasked at the mirror.
7. How deeply productivity is built into my psyche!
8. Inspired by Richard Brown Lethem’s painting “Wink/Blue Table,” I like the idea of a poem or story being its own table rather than representing something else. Even as its own Table of Contents. (Where he’s a monkey, I’m a squirrel – rather than the hawk I’d envisioned.)
9. “Closure victimizes thought” – Donald Revell on John Ashbery.
10. Step on a nail in the garden. What a sore sole the next day! In contrast to sore soul.

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I’ve long been fond of collage as an art form. These Tendrils continue the stream.

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1. Tomatoes are in! Real tomatoes! Nothing like the ones in the supermarket all year, no way! Julienne is our workhorse variety, small but firm and reliable from the beginning to the end of the season. We dry and freeze many of them to use well through winter. Even while raising a dozen or more varieties, we find New England’s susceptibility to blight has erased most of our favorite big heritage varieties from our rounds. Hurrah, though, for some of the hybrids. For the big juicy reds we’re relying on Bobcat, Brandywine, and Cherokee Purple. Any other suggestions?
2. “High summer” is what I celebrate once the oppressive heat and humidity of July break, rather than bemoan the few weeks remaining. …
3. How tasty/zesty the wild blueberries on Mount Major!
4. Dog Days, indeed. Swimming at what I call Fort Lobster. The water, choppy with a rip. A short swim can be exhausting. I can see how panic would set in. Meanwhile, she sleeps on the warm pebbles of this beach. Back home, we grill steak and corn on the cob.
5. I really do have to learn to play bocce. Or bocci, as I usually see it spelled around here.
6. At yearly meeting and other big Quaker gatherings where we rent a college campus for a week, we use golf carts to ferry folks from dorms to dining hall to the auditorium or classrooms. Has me thinking of amusement parks with their kiddie-car courses. Especially the faces of the volunteer drivers reliving a highlight of their childhoods.
7. Still, I wonder about those who publish a short story and are then approached by an agent. Especially considering how difficult short-story collections prove in the marketplace. Short fiction, remember, is a whole different beast than a novel.
8. Wandering through galleries of maritime paintings, she became fascinated by the way waves are depicted. Turns out to be a good way to traverse the collection.
9. Before her, I had no real conception of house repairs! All these things that need to be done! Is it really endless?
10. One-pot meals can be classic. To wit: I boil a pot of water, add corn on the cob. Remove the corn, replace it with lobster in the same (now seasoned) boiling water. Serve with butter and lemon and beverage of choice. All yummy!

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