After playing with the color white all day, after the amazing meteor streaked by, Friday finished with my remembering what happens to white paint on garden chairs left out over many winters. I retired at 1AM Saturday morning, without leaving sunflower seeds on the front windowsill for my friendly flock of rock-doves.
Instead, propping a long mirror facing outward there, along with a smaller one to compound the effect, in hopes that upon seeing many confusing images of themselves,
they might be dissuaded from the perch.
Rose at 5AM to the sounds of angry, flapping, chortling, clucking,
hungry pigeons who, collectively, ignored the mirror entirely and did what they do each morning undisturbed by reflections. They do not know
what I know, that they are endangered, that the Superintendent of this
building has been ordered to climb up the fire-escape and knock their
nests away, that the most dangerous predator of all is resolutely set upon permanently eliminating them.
I turned the computer on to check for news of Friday nights meteor over the
Northeast. Trolling sites lasted about an hour till
I found the
image I wanted, and posted it for face book 'friends'.
.
screen shot from EarthSky post
Rose again at 10:45AM to do
nothing but think.
I think that's what I was doing. It lasted an hour.
Then, I went back to bed.
I think that's what I was doing. It lasted an hour.
Then, I went back to bed.
She finally gave up her comforter at 4PM, and on
her third coffee-break from cleaning out rotted food she was
too lazy or distracted to cook, she felt deeply guilty over her
wanton ways in the wasting of it.
As you have surely noticed, "I" became "She"
somewhere between 10:45AM and 4PM,
while she and I slept unaware,
slipping from dream to dream, to no dream.
It happens sometimes, that one spontaneously switches from person to persona in order to separate from unpleasant realities.
Sleep is the miracle medium,
chock full of little surprises like that.
wanton ways in the wasting of it.
As you have surely noticed, "I" became "She"
somewhere between 10:45AM and 4PM,
while she and I slept unaware,
slipping from dream to dream, to no dream.
It happens sometimes, that one spontaneously switches from person to persona in order to separate from unpleasant realities.
Sleep is the miracle medium,
chock full of little surprises like that.
Fused, yet interchangeable, we continued with our Saturday as dusk descended over the inhabitants of this mega-money-town. While all its separate persons. with their personas,
busily reviewed their evening's plan, or no-plan,
the planets circumnavigated their courses more ancient than ours, and the minds of beings
briefly settled their argument with themselves
just in time for supper.
These oh-so-many little worlds,
along with our one-and-only world,
dipped away from our sun.
Stars became apparent, and our blessed moon
slid silently into view above the horizon.
We steamed carrots and Brussels-sprouts.
Then sliced red onions into the old Iron pan,
with it's coconut oil sizzling over a gas flame.
We let the aroma intoxicate us,
overwhelming visions of rust invasions,
of predators and feathered things.
Carey Grant and Joan Fontaine are always a pleasant sight. Onward then, back to
1941
"And so it goes"
4 comments:
Sounds like you, she, they had quite the day! How lucky for the luxury of the sleep when you like, rise when you like...I could easily live days like this :)
Oh I have time obligations still my dear Nancy, but when arthritic joints swell, when bad news overwhelms, I find a day to give away, to vegetate, to heal. your time will come, and all the maladies that time dictates as well as the little blessings.
I LOVE ALL THIS.
i love the persona
such a wonderful "tool"....
to jump back, and get a little
distance
a GREAT GREAT post...thank
you.
Your life has much texture. It feels good and full. Thanks for the aroma of the veg and the sounds of my youth (on the white post).
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