Caveat: Poem #827

it’s necessary
to answer the voices heard
to walk and to think

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Caveat: A daily walk

One thing I try to do is take a daily walk. It’s important to get out of the house. I think it’s good for Arthur,  too. It’s hard to get motivated when it rains for days on end. Interestingly, I don’t in any way make him take walks. I announce that I’m going for a walk, and he inevitably comes along, rain or shine. I’m certain he wouldn’t if it was just him alone, even though we are not at all social during our walks – he mostly listens to his “audiobooks” while I observe the world and sometimes take pictures.

I often end up far behind or ahead of him, depending on whether I’ve stopped to look at something or if I’m pacing myself relative to his progress. Here is a picture of Arthur far ahead down the road, during a continuous drizzle.

picture

[daily log: walking, 3km]

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Caveat: Poem #826

A book I started –
oh, thirty years ago now –
but I’ll try again.

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Caveat: An Archeology of the Air

Nothing much to say. Arthur complains he’s not doing anything. I told him he’s retired. He said no, “just tired.”

Some pictures.

On a stormy, windy morning, the sky broke open and spilled out a rainbow…

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A jagged snag…

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The leaves are leaving…

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An archeology of the air…

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The river – just add water…

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[daily log: walking, 4km]

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Caveat: Poem #825

The rain is like truth:
It comes, but it’s unwanted.
Let it feed the roots.

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Caveat: Slow advancing, halting, creeping

She Walketh Veiled and Sleeping

She walketh veiled and sleeping,
For she knoweth not her power;
She obeyeth but the pleading
Of her heart, and the high leading
Of her soul, unto this hour.
Slow advancing, halting, creeping,
Comes the Woman to the hour!—
She walketh veiled and sleeping,
For she knoweth not her power.

– Charlotte Perkins Gilman (American poet, 1860-1935)

[daily log: walking, 4km]

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Caveat: Poem #824

He may have harbored some hopes in his day,
Cruel was the world, and unkind were the fates,
Robbed and neglected, the gods had their say…
Loathsome and brutish, they lifted life’s weights.

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Caveat: Various Trees

There are many trees here.

Young trees on rocks.

picture

Dead trees in estuaries.

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[daily log: walking, 2.5km]

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Caveat: Poem #823

The sun’s vanity:
to give illumination
where the air resists…

picture

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Caveat: High Stakes

I located the last of the southern platt stakes, today.

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The context:

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This was the last one that needed to be found. The three southern stakes were what needed to be located – they are the ones high up on the hillside. The northern stakes (by the water) are all easily located – just walk along the shore. Total: 6 stakes, for two rectangular lots with a shared border between them.

I feel this is a great accomplishment.

So why do we need to know where these stakes are?  We need to properly locate the western properly line. So my next job is to clear a line between this last stake and the road through the trees and brush, on a bearing 4 degrees east of north. That is the western property line.

[daily log: walking, 4km; tromping, 300m]

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Caveat: Poem #822

Dawn comes later now.
The sky, dull silver at eight,
tastes the reaching trees.

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Caveat: Caravanophobia

Maybe I should stay out of politics, but I found sympathy with this cartoon on the matter of the hypocrisy inherent in fears about immigration.

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[daily log: walking, 4km]

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Caveat: Poem #821

I love the light’s mood
When the Fall overcast hangs
So low and so gray.

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Caveat: Hard labor at 10:22 PM

Last night, Arthur decided that it was time to bring in the “rails” from his boat ramp. It’s like a miniature, 15 meter railroad stuck out into the water; it’s how he gets his boat in and out of the water and up into his little boat shed. The rails stick down into the water as far as the low tide line, so it takes a very low tide to expose the lowest rails. So during the winter, normally, he wants to pull in the lowest rails to minimize the weather damage on them through the winter, when he won’t be launching his boat in any event.

There was a low tide at 10:22 PM. And all the lowest tides to be expected over the next month are at night – so this was the best we could do. We got a floodlight to shine around, went down onto the rocky beach where the boatramp is, unbolted the lowest two stretches of rails, and carried them up to the landing beside the boat shed.

It was really hard work. As is our normal pattern, when we’re most effective, Arthur provided the expertise, while I provided a lot of the hard labor.

There are no pictures – it was dark.

[daily log: walking, 4km]

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Caveat: Poem #820

Darkness enveloped;
the stones clattered underfoot;
below, the sea dwelt.

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Caveat: on the emergent paradigm

Here is a random philosophical thought, not fully developed, which occurred to me the other day.

Most people don’t care about the surveillance state and/or the lack-of-privacy which is being induced by modern technology. There is actually a simple reason for this lack of concern. It is because, in fact, that lack of privacy is the human cultural baseline. Through most of history, humans lived in small, extended family or tribal-sized groups where everyone knew what everyone else was doing. What is happening now is a return to that baseline, but within the context of a much larger social structure: city, nation, planet. Everyone knows what everyone else is doing: a global village of 8 billion. What’s to worry about? It’s like it always was. The anomaly was the period between the invention of cities and states (approx. 2000 BC) and the development of instantaneous universally distributed communication. In the grand scale of things, it’s a pretty short period of anomaly.

[daily log: walking, 4km]

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Caveat: Poem #819

We have attachments
that others don’t understand.
Why so many books?

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Caveat: Saturday Outing

Arthur and I went over to his friends / neighbors Jeri and Karl this evening for dinner. A three mile drive down the road, they have  a beautiful self-built house on the inlet, where they park their sailboat. They are interesting people.

I took this picture earlier, as we were about to leave.

picture

[daily log: walking, 3km]

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Caveat: Poem #818

Once every day he would ponder the cards,
gathering insights that opened his mind,
spinning out visions and signs into shards,
then he would put them away, and go blind.

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Caveat: Small Steps

I spent a lot of time on my tax work today. I got as far as sending off an email to the preparer with a first draft of the spreadsheet I have to make, summarizing my Korean income for the past 5 years of missed tax filings.

I’m sure the work isn’t done. But anyway, I get to take a justified break, since I put the ball in the other person’s court for a while.

So that’s a relief.

It rained all day. I had to help Arthur with the gutter again. It didn’t go as badly as yesterday – but I really don’t like heights.

[daily log: walking, 3km]

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