63 of #100daychallenge
Fox looks like a mad dog. He was just chillaxin' in the shade of the cosmos and the Hong Kong tulip tree when I walked over. He then proceeded to roll over on this back and wriggle like a happy puppy. If the Cat League catches on to him, he may lose his membership.
The day was pretty quiet. The weather was grand. Janet had an eye injection appointment, so we drove the 20 miles to her eye doctor. Thanks to Covid, I no longer have to wait with her as accompaniers are frowned up. I scooted over to the local Savers although I was not much in a shopping mood (yes, I found a few cool things), but I did not longer nor do I load up with books and/or cds. I did find some cool lps, if that's what they are
There were more of this kind, but I only indulged myself a little. I don't go through all the records in the bins, but just lightly peruse. These were right on the end and with those graphics I couldn't pass them up.
There's not really much to report on and as I am not thinking, there isn't much to say there, either. The quotidienne day of cat wrangling, bed making, garden watering, car washing, intense telephone conversation, and some needlework. That pretty much covers it. As tomorrow morning is early yoga, I needs get to sleep again and I am thinking I might watch the first episode of the new season of Bosch.
My first sunflower in many years.
IN THE EVENING AIR
I
A dark theme keeps me here,
Though summer blazes in the vireo’s eye.
Who would be half possessed
By his own nakedness?
Waking’s my care—
I’ll make a broken music, or I’ll die.
II
Ye littles, lie more close!
Make me, O Lord, a last, a simple thing
Time cannot overwhelm.
Once I transcended time
A bud broke to rose,
And I rose from a last diminishing.
III
I look down the far light
And I behold the dark side of a tree
Far down a billowing plain,
And when I look again
It’s lost upon the night—
Night I embrace, a dear proximity.
IV
I stand by a low fire
Counting the wisps of flame and I watch how
Light shifts upon the wall.
I bid stillness be still.
I see, in the evening air,
How slowly dark comes down on what we do.
— Theodore Roethke, The Collected Poems of Theodore Roethke, Anchor, New York 2011
I just stumbled across this poem whilst perusing. Turns out it is rather famous and that Aaron Copland was inspired to write a piano piece on the last two lines. You are welcome for the trivia.
Nice sunflower. I remember how in 3rd grade, Miss Kelly had us all take our milk cartons, cut off the tops, fill them with dirt and plant seeds of our choice. I planted a sunflower seed. We put them up on the high window sill. It was a catholic school and an old church building, and the windows were those big old institutional ones that had a big cantilever window pane in the middle. You had to use what looked like a boathook to open them if you wanted to air out that stuffy religious film that dampened everything inside the classroom. But I digress. We watered them and some grew and some didn't. I guess that was an early moment of disappointment for some of us at that tender age.
ReplyDelete"that stuffy religious film that dampened everything" nice
ReplyDelete