FLY, FLY, FLY

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

~*~

  1. Anyone else hate raking leaves? Find bagging them’s even worse? A reminder, too, of the tons of snow to be shoveled, all too soon around the corner. Will this be the year we cave in and buy a snow blower, rather than continue by hand?
  2. Commuting to choir each week requires driving through Belmont. That is, the one in Massachusetts. When folks mention the name, it could as easily refer to the one here in New Hampshire, up in the Lakes Region. Or, in my past, the neighborhood where I grew up in Ohio, going all the way through Belmont Elementary and High.
  3. Sometimes on that commute, the GPS sends us through some exclusive neighborhoods. We note the tonier neighborhoods are dominated by slate roofs.
  4. As a midday meal, it’s hard to beat fresh mussels and a baguette.
  5. So many things have to be taken at a leisurely pace, doled out over time.
  6. Would love to hit weekend morning dim sum in Boston’s Chinatown again. The restaurant basement function rooms fill with 250 or more diners as a dozen carts of delicacies pass your table. Pick something, if you wish, or wait for the next. Nothing in English, and no prices in sight. Just what’s in that steamed bamboo dish? The total for this “Chinese fast-food tapas” turns out to be about what we’d pay for breakfast at McDonald’s.
  7. Another unanticipated side of my Motets: the close connection between religion and politics, or at least social responsibility.
  8. Did Quaker culture essentially fail to address the earthy side of life? Could we have become all too refined?
  9. Guiding and teaching a new generation – a swami at last. Or whatever you want to call the guru or elder or abbot.
  10. What are we really afraid of? Really afraid of?

~*~

An expression of timeless grieving. Gone was that Puritan constraint.
An expression of timeless grieving. Gone was that Puritan constraint.

 

 

SUBMIT TO AIR CIRCULATING ALMOST

one bit of good news

remove debris and deport from one side
for her garden, relocating the piles
in shadowed cesspool, a bonfire, a second

live-trap a dozen spewing squirrels

the as-yet unspecified glade
even without feathered friends
concentrates on the emerging line and shape

a full-time task
regarding implanted hierarchy

“Your generation just doesn’t know
how to have fun” and delight in
thirst

out of the house and about
so you’d admit nearing release
nearing an island

with us, the race to plant bulbs
would always have a late start

Poem copyright 2016 by Jnana Hodson
For more,
click here.

 

STILL LOOKING FOR FOLIAGE?

No, we can’t ignore our glorious fall foliage.

My slide shows and Yankee autumn essays archived in the New England spirit category, August-November 2013, of my Chicken Farmer I Still Love You blog are well worth revisiting. Our regional character comes forth in the intense, all-too-brief flurry from summer into long winter.

Take the tour, if you haven’t already. No wonder we treasure the color! And feel free to react with your comments.

First, the slide shows, beginning with a hike before the color shifts and a taste of the apple harvest. And then the sequence of full autumn foliage:

And then, ponder the influence all this has on our emotions and thinking:

~*~

Click away as you will.

Just another mill town, right?
Just another mill town, right?

SERIOUSLY SCORPIO

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

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  1. Am imagining evenings for violin and piano. How long since I’ve even picked up rosin and bow!
  2. A drive through a stretch I call the Black Forest can be quite amazing now. So luminescent, a golden-yellow tunnel of light.
  3. Indian Summer officially comes after the first killing frost. It’s almost scary.
  4. How much I feel myself a dilettante. A little of this, a little of that.
  5. The Big Question? (Questions! Yes, it’s questions!)
  6. It’s important to have a place to wind down, to fester, to percolate. To look at the messy side of your existence. (Nothing of that in a Frank Lloyd Wright home.)
  7. Reza Baraheni is the Iranian poet I heard read after his release from prison and torture. He warned that the alternative to the Shah would be even worse.
  8. My Mediterraneo poetry project had me reconsidering Greek and Roman mythology and then seeing that in contrast to theology. What strikes me is how convoluted it is, more than even Hindu cosmologies, and how anthropromorphic, down to the birthing or immortals slaying other immortals while frozen in time. How intricately it’s bound to a specific locale and its people. In contrast to the One Truth implicit in monotheism, i.e., science, the mythologies give us a cosmos that’s chaotic, ruled by caprice, fear, vengeance, conflicting deities as the source of human suffering. How do you find direction in such confusion?
  9. A neighbor’s 2 1/2-foot iguana is on the loose, according to the poster on the telephone pole. There’s a $100 reward.
  10. You don’t shoot your own troops. Not if you want to win. Otherwise, there’s every reason to mutiny.

~*~

Along the Community Trail through Dover.
Along the Community Trail through Dover.

 

Just in case you were looking for red.
Just in case you were looking for red.

 

MY VIEW FROM THE TOP OF THE BARN

Some maples are red and others bright yellow. Either one can catch my breath.
Some maples are red and others bright yellow. Either one can catch my breath.

 

October is one of my favorite times for sitting and working in the loft of the barn. The sun no longer turns its air intolerably stuffy but rather adds some welcome comfort. I can still leave the loft door open for natural light and fresh air, if I want. And just look what’s happening around me!

 

Our season of outdoor dining is just about ended.
Our season of outdoor dining is just about ended.

LATE AFTERNOON AUTUMN SUN

1

180-degree
sweep of ocean
seen from a cliff

great slow curve
of our planet

eight vessels
are barely
specks on this expanse

two seals so close
Rachel observes their features

“here I am”
the great breaking surf

2

toddler tracks
bird tracks
out for the show

car tires
looping over bicycle
beside shoe
gull, dog, and mouse
imprints in sand
leaving the parking lot

everybody’s
been to the beach

parasailing / surfing
weekend

3

Juan skirts New England
slams New Brunswick as a tropical storm

a danger of frost on Thursday
or we may be spared

by our proximity to the sea

4

moonlight

couples
entwined
on sand

man, we’re getting older, America
still ill-at-ease in this dwelling

Poem copyright 2016 by Jnana Hodson
To see the full set of seacoast poems,
click here.

DEAR CROSSINGS … WHERE THEY WILL

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?

~*~

  1. So strange to awaken with no agenda for the day, no pressing project at hand. To return abed, with coffee. Not that this is normal, by any stretch of the imagination.
  2. My big dream for financial liberation: HAWAIIAN SWEATERS. In northern climates like ours, the popular Hawaiian shirts have about a six-week span of usefulness. But with long sleeves and sufficient heft, their colorful designs just might be welcome for leisure wear the rest of the year. Think of skiing or ice skating or sitting beside the fire. Let me know if you’re interested in investing.
  3. On my way home the other day, had to brake for deer on each side of the road. And then? Such large ears!
  4. Am seeing so many of my literary work turning into history – despite their contemporary focus.
  5. “You write where your soul is” (says Ernest J. Gaines). Not necessarily where your body is.
  6. A long procession – parade – of panel trucks, tractor rigs, pickups – was headed by a hearse. I still don’t know the story.
  7. The Provost’s Wife is quite a character, famous for her parties.
  8. When I’m involved in a project, just plain STOPPING is difficult.
  9. The ocean’s turned wild, restless, throwing big sprays. I’d never be viewing this had that lover returned. Nor would I have written anything of what I have since she left. Seems altogether fitting.
  10. As another said, “Things are slow when it rains.”

~*~

The Ogunquit Art Museum hosts some impressive shows but is open only part of each year.
The Ogunquit Art Museum hosts some impressive shows but is open only part of each year.

 

The central gallery looks out over Perkins Cove, where major artists painted some iconic coastal Maine images in the years before the museum was built.
The central gallery looks out over Perkins Cove, where major artists painted some iconic coastal Maine images in the years before the museum was built.

 

Care to step outdoors?
Care to step outdoors?

YES, ‘TIS DEEPLY INGRAINED IN THE NEW ENGLAND SPIRIT

Autumn truly is New England’s premier season, and I’ve spent much time pondering its influence. Here are some of my reasons:

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Click away as you will.

The color suits our settlements.
The color suits our settlements.