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Archive for October, 2012

I think local newscasters only have a certain vocabulary allotment for each day….. And after 12+ hours of broadcasting about the storm, they have run out.

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The forecasters say “the worst” of the first storm should be passing over us in the next 6 hours.  But Hurricane Sandy does seem to be rotating, which suggests that the worst of the first storm may not be the last of the storminess ahead for this week….

As the day darkens, the brightest thing visible from my window is the yellow of a neighbor’s recycling bin, then the flicker of a streetlight coming on, then the remaining yellow leaves on one of the weedy young maple trees….the green of the ivy is fading into darkness, only a few shades lighter than the wet black trees.

The sky?  Well it’s grey, but not bright, and the bursts of sideways rain roaring by match it for color, so it seems as if the sky is ripping apart in the wind, buffeting around, and then soaking into the ground.

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Let’s see :

  • Full moon
  • Incoming hurricane
  • Anniversaries of loss and change
  • All Hallow’s Eve and the Day of the Dead
  • Balky heating system
  • Seasonal benign paroxysmal vertigo

But no, none of these things say “Coming Apocalypse” quite as strongly as “I’ve voluntarily gone to three malls in the last 36 hours and bought clothing in each one.”

Just thought I should share this with you….

[Recommended musical selection:  “Good Night Moon” by Shivaree]

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Afternoon Peace

 

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Courtesy of Google image search; all photo copyrights assuredly belong to other people. The wrens are suspicious of this whole arrangement.

Wrens are not especially subtle about their curiousity.  They want to know, they want you to know that they want to know, and, further, they want you to know that they think you are holding out on them.

Other birds certainly make commentary — the catbird would like to know why, the robins are quite interested in the grubs and other things that creepeth and crawleth in the wake of a gardener’s efforts, and the titmice are engaged in loud and fluttery debates over who is the Greyest, who is the Fluffiest, who is the very Finest, Flappiest, Screechiest titmouse of them all?

Wrens may want to announce news — their presence, their beautiful nestlings that you should admire and acclaim but NOT look at — and they will go on with territorial songs for hours.  But — and maybe this has something to do with the times of year I see them, or the melancholy that sometimes coincides — it strikes me that they also want to be remembered at some indeterminate time in the future.  As if, and this is ridiculous, as there are (as far as I know) no heirloom maps I need translated at midnight, nor mountain treasures to unlock, they think they might be useful to me somewhere down the line.

“We are wrens. We are legion.  Remember us now and in your time of trial…”

On the other hand, they do like knowing, much as I do.  Maybe at some point we will have something more detailed to say to each other…

This image of wrens is my responsibility. The wrens are not convinced I have taken that seriously enough….

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With a wink towards Alice Walker….

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Longwood Gardens is a place for show stopper botanical pyrotechnics. The indoor chrysanthemums were amazing… But I think the most fun this time was rambling around in the meadows, gawking at the trees, water, and sky.

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