They're Back!

Yesterday morning as I was leaving for work I was greeted by geese.  We have a baseball field directly across the street from us and during their migration - twice a year we are visited by geese. They are astonishing in flight and fascinating to watch when they stopover to rest on the ball field. There were some 20 birds yesterday. I never know what to expect. Several years ago my daughter and I counted over a hundred of them on the field.

 

If you haven't caught it, Kelli Agodon has a great post on The Art of the Blurb.  She has had so many good writing advise posts to questions that have been posed to her recently so if you haven't been to her blog recently or like ever, I recommend it. Book of Kells.  I'm a pretty avid reader of Kelli's blog and as summer arrives she usually announces that she will be somewhat sporadic in her posts. My first reaction is of course a sigh. But each summer she will field questions and do responses or offer some writerly wisdom on her own.  She may not post as frequently, but the posts are always insightful.  It's no wonder she generally receives so many comments to her posts. 

 

Well, it's hump day and I've sinned. I missed Confession Tuesday. How did that happen anyway?  Well, I will have to collect myself and head to the confessional later today.

 

 

Understanding

Everything that irritates us about others can lead us to an understanding of ourselves.  -Carl Jung

Revelation on Some Level

Presently the curb doesn't seem quite so fixed
the street lamps reflect pyramids
the pavement is the most permanent
I've experienced since I got out of bed
this morning I had no idea




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Food For Thought

Hunger also changes the world - when eating can't be a habit, then neither can seeing.  ~ Maxine Hong Kingston




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Music to my Ear

 

This morning I put on a play list of music that I've made specifically to write by. The first notable impact was that time became irrelevant to me. No clock watching was a good thing. It, along with other distractions were gone. Poof!

 

To say that I wrote the best ever would be a stretch but that isn't what is important. I was at ease and I was more productive in the time that I did allocate - which incidentally I ran past without notice till after the fact.

 

I worked on  completely new material. A project that I've had in mind but had not committed to paper in any way yet.  I started in my journal in long hand. Later in the morning I took it to my laptop and did some early cutting of excess. It's a start but I was very happy with it.

 

Early evening I got out for a photo shoot. Then came home and mowed the back yard.  The weather was nicer today then we've had for a while. It's been really hot here. Much more productive day then yesterday.

Can I have a Saturday do-over?

 

 

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Confession Tuesday

Forgive me dear reader, it's late and I'm tired. I confess I seriously considered skipping Confession today but that seemed so lazy and I did not want the guilt of feeling lazy. I've been very detail orientated today at work and I'm more mentally drained than physically tired.  But enough of that,,, it's confession time, let's get started.

A really strange thing occurred today at the office. I confess aging has been a fear of mine since - well since I turned at least 25. Yes, I said twenty-five.  I admit that the alternative to aging (death) is not real attractive either. But I digress-

This afternoon I paused as I was working in a project at my computer and looked down at my hand. I think I recall scratching the of my left hand with my right.  I noticed in the desk lighting that the back of my hand seemed more tanned than I would have thought. upon closer look it appeared to me that my skin seemed rougher... more wrinkled then I had ever noticed. This freaked me out!

I know this all sounds so silly, but somehow what I saw of my hands said more to me then looking in a mirror in the morning, Then looking at any of my recent pictures. I confess I freaked out!

Even as I write this tonight and look at my hands (admittedly in different lighting) they don't seem to freak me out like they did this afternoon.  I suppose this was simply a case of heightened anxiety and I confess that it makes me feel really silly.

Why can't I look at my overall view of aging as just something silly too?






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Their Hold on Me

They block the solar waves of summer

pounding the earth like arrows
and hold onto me by a plexus mass
spreading like a cancer through me

I'm unable to stop them
all summer long
they are rooted in my memory
and even as the fall turns on them
and the winter harshness beats them
brown and mats them
against my icy black loam
their hold on me is parasitical-
they will be back in spring



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