December 2011
31 posts
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The Harrow and the Harvest
Just after high noon on the headlands: the long wail of the ships, the raven rustling in the salt cedar. I lay down in the wild strawberry and aeonium and the fog pressed me closer to the slope. I clung to it only by the stalks of dry thistle buds prying open the green. A few fishermen way down below hollered over a catch, and the buoys’ bells tolled with surges in the water. I imagined long...
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Something has shifted in the wind. I am learning, through recitation and the forcefulness of time, that moments of grief, loneliness, anxiety, sleeplessness are given to me as opportunities to learn, grow, and create. They are nothing to curse. I have grown so tired of being alone, and so restless here, but there is so much to be done. Step 1: don’t call the one who doesn’t want to...
Of that Westernness: I saw a twenty-inch hawk perched on the barest of trees today, and then the expanse of the valley suddenly widened and filled with gold. “Helpless” with the Band was on and I remembered careening here through the air at five hundred miles an hour, and when a friend said that flying is a good exercise in letting somebody else take control. I have been listless, and...
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This Peter and the Wolf album is just one jewel in...
Last thing- mellofied
