at some point before the sun comes up, before the looming fog brightens, above the waiting forest, behind the slate gray sky, with eagles' assent, but bears' surprise, it begins: purple light
Today, the Ides of September, Arthur and I once again sought to catch a halibut, but alas, we returned to port having only hooked a number of ugly bottom fish of poor quality. Halibutless. The sea was flat and sunny, though. I saw some seagulls cruising on an improvised raft (hard to see, center of this picture, looking past the southern end of San Juan Island toward San Ignacio and Baker, in the distance).
Meanwhile, trees continued their efforts to touch the sky.
worried thoughts bold plans internal doubts
optimistic words verbal hesitations pertinent questions
long pauses happy suggestions convoluted rationalizations
looming fog still forest patient spider
– a quennet
"True," she said. She sat down and looked around. "The gods can't see us." He just listened, musing. "Perhaps when the sun comes out..." A deer poked its head out at them. The clouds made the sky a dull, gray slate. He stood, restlessly, pacing the ground. The deer, now startled, disappeared. Droplets of water scattered. "What if we..." he began. He gazed mountainward. She shook her head. "There's nothing." He slumped. Wept.
The past few days I’ve been busy with my somewhat unsuccessful effort to remodel the plumbing in the well-head shed (“doghouse”). I’m not very good at eliminating all the leaks – I’m too inexperienced a plumber.
Today, with sporadic rain, I decided to work indoors instead, and have been doing “academic stuff” related to my efforts to enroll in the University of Alaska Southeast’s teacher certification program – a much more overwhelming and bureaucratic process than I had hoped for. Sigh. Life goes on.
Here is a tree over on lot 73.
Our friend and neighbor Joe from down the road joined us and we went out on a singularly unsuccessful fishing trip today. We went seeking halibut at Roller Bay, then “Shipwreck” (off San Fernando Island), then the northwest side of Balandra Island. We caught exactly one smallish lingcod. Then we tried for salmon along Cemetery Island and the Coronados, trolling into the south entrance of Port Saint Nicholas. Nothing – a few black bass that were smaller than some of the bait.
Here is a tree, also struggling.