Friday, August 19, 2016


August 12th
Clouds threatened rain when I returned.

I watered the garden at dusk anyway because it had been neglected for three days, and continued with that pleasant routine early evenings as the sun moved off.
I was still using the wounded camera holding the lens in place, hence the shadow of a finger in all the shots I wasn't able to crop.

Beastly hot and damp days.  Inside it was blessedly cool with the air conditioner at 79 degrees, and sometimes just the fan was enough.

Daily, I rose before sunup and fed the birds for the pleasure of watching them. Did a little bit of art play with water color pencils.
Days later I continued playing, and wish I hadn't
Also tried a flower wrap on breeze-cloth
Impatient, I undid it only a few days later
But, when soaked there was little color left.  Days melted into just being, and being without computer was a gift. Nights there was some entertaining TV from the BBC I don't get in New York.

Saturday morning I found a dead bird under the feeder, and there was a mourning dove inspecting it for food.  Maybe I should have left it and walked away, but...

I brought it inside and washed it free of mites.

What a beautiful wing.


I read books about Julius Eastman (Link) with an essay by R. Nemo Hill, a book about Bill Rice (Link) whose Garden theater I attended several times in the East Village.  I read the Hanuman chapter of "Bali", and perused sections of "Alchemy" by Johanne Fabricius

Finished "The Book Shop" by Penelope Fitzgerald whom I'd never heard of (Link), and she's wonderful.  I listened to Cuban music and to Judy Henski's album "Big Judy" (Link), plus several more discs.

 Here's a choice taste of Judy Henski

After supper I went outside to listen.  August is the desperate month when crickets, cicadas and katydids must mate and die in order to provide a future for their kind.

Still blooming,
the garden is also chock full of seeds to save.

Tuesday the 16th--Time to leave.
So it was I left notes and food, locked up,
bid farewell to the watchman...

and boarded the 3:07 back to muggy Manhattan.


grace Forrest~Maestas said...

it is if i were there as you tell it. Thank You

Mo Crow said...

loved "Offshore" by Penelope Fitzgerald