Bad pictures of good things

Yesterday was Sparks’ last day at work. Mimi was at school. It was my last full morning alone in the house. It was overcast and drizzling. I took a walk down the forest trail and didn’t bring my camera… and regretted it. I took these pictures with my phone, which had a smudge on the lense and kept popping the flash. Oh well.

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“The Pacific coast forest is different.”
“I’ve been to the redwood forest.”
“It’s so full of life and so full of… I don’t know…”
“Primitive”
“Primordial. It’s primordial.”

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I want to build a dry stone wall. I want to build a wheel house. I want to spin and weave a woolen cloak. I want to sit by a fire as the darkness draws in. Maybe I want to carve stone.

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Some day I will go to Aarhus to see his peat-brown head

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Hwæt, wē Gārdena in ġeārdagum þēod cyninga þrym ġefrūnon hū ðā æþelingas ellen fremedon.

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I am the artful voyeur of your brain’s exposed and darkened combs, of your muscles’ webbing and all your numbered bones

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3 thoughts on “Bad pictures of good things

  1. We’ve had chilly nights for August in NY and it just makes me long for wooly sweaters and boots and cloaks even though I enjoy still frolicking around in tee shirts, sandals, and linen skirts with bare legs in the sunshine. Is it fall yet so I can turn my oven on again and eat soup every night for supper?

  2. I feel the same way. I wonder if I’d a like a year that was half as long so there were twice as many springs and falls.

  3. I think I’d just like more time to live in the seasons – spending more time out of doors, harvesting and cooking seasonal foods, and just noticing things more. Although longer autumns would be very nice. And longer time in the spring to enjoy all the gorgeous spring flowers. I wish the coppery, leafy, blue sky-y falls would hang on until mid-November, so we’d only have a few weeks of dreary, brown, cold, rainy weather before Christmas. White Christmases every year would be nice, too. We’ve missed them the past couple of years.

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