ㅁ A small white moth caught some sunset light, dodging raindrops along the road. There's not much navigation taking place in its brain, it seems, as I watch: hanging in there, drop to drop, swoop up, down.
– a nonnet.
Month: December 2020
Caveat: Tree #698
This tree knew the morning’s wind.
[daily log: walking, 3km; retailing, 6hr]
Caveat: Poem #1598 “Cheaper than radar speed enforcement”
ㅁ Potholes proliferate in the road. They become gravel-based life forms. In slow-motion, they merge, swirl: mudpuddle amoebas, tasting your truck's tires, eating stray stones, lying there, slowing all.
– a nonnet.
Caveat: Tree #697
This tree is infested with an alligator. Can you see the toy plastic alligator hidden in the branches?
[daily log: walking, 3km; retailing, 6hr]
Caveat: Poem #1597 “East wind”
ㅁ If it's from the east we get some wind. Then the tree-branches wave outside. Whitecaps appear on the sea. Clouds struggle to stay gray. Shadows play around. Bushes convulse. The dock creaks. Birds swoop. Sighs.
– a nonnet.
Caveat: Tree #696
This tree awaited the rain.
I made some borscht and wallowed in my laconicity.
[daily log: walking, 2.5km]
Caveat: Poem #1596 “The curmudgeonly elf”
ㅁ In my role as curmudgeonly elf, I tried hard to keep the mood light. It's all just a performance. But sometimes convincing. I make a few puns and awkward jokes. People laugh. I shrug. Smile.
– a nonnet.
Caveat: Tree #695
This tree was down in the murk.
[daily log: walking, 3km; retailing, 6hr]
Caveat: Curmudgeonly-Elf-in-Training
I was a curmudgeonly elf in training. Santa came to the gift shop today.
Here are my boss and I.
Here are the store’s owner and Santa.
Many children came in the store to see Santa. There are many false Santas on this island, but I guess this was the true one – he had the uniform, anyway. We all had a discussion as to whether groups of children should be quantified as “barrages of children” or as “herds of children.” We decided it was a matter of experience. Having worked as a teacher, I felt children mostly needed to be considered as herds. But working in retail, my coworker felt strongly that children should be considered as barrages.
Caveat: Poem #1595 “Groping along”
ㅁ I rarely walk outside after dark. So when I did, last night, I saw: a faded reddish planet, a wheeling dome of stars, the deepest shadows of looming trees: no edges, but just dark.
– a nonnet.
Caveat: Tree #694
This tree knew the clouds would move on.
I spent the morning repairing our water-intake system – the plastic sheeting in the creek-bed, uphill from the road, that serves as a catchment for our water, had been dislodged somehow. So I had to rearrange things. Meanwhile, I filled the cistern from the well – this is easy now that I’ve made an adapter for the hose in my greenhouse, that is sourced off the well. We’ve had not shortage of water from the sky, but if the catchment isn’t working, we still will end up with a shortage in our tank.
[daily log: walking, 2.5km]
Caveat: Poem #1594 “Thursday is shopping day”
ㅁ We went to town for Thursday shopping. Our first stop was the library - had to refresh DVDs. Next was the post-office. And then, groceries. A cold wind blew. But no snow. So far. Soon.
– a nonnet.
Caveat: Tree #693
This tree is in town, left of the center in a view looking north from the Public Library parking lot. To the right is the fire department, to the left is city hall, there’s a utility pole and tree, and then the sea and some mountains in the distance.
[daily log: walking, 2km]
Caveat: Poem #1593 “Retail tales”
ㅁ The woman comes in regularly. Sometimes she just wants to visit. She has crossstitches to frame. There are things to be bought. Yesterday she told me she'd once worked here. Long ago, she'd stood, too.
– a nonnet.
Caveat: Tree #692
This tree felt the fingers of the waning moon on her shoulders.
[daily log: walking, 2.5km; retailing, 7hr]
Caveat: Poem #1592 “Legends from the islands hereabout”
ㅁ The native man came into the store. He often comes in to converse, which is hard because he's deaf. He talked about a girl who fell in a creek in Ketchikan... almost drowned, but then, saved.
– a nonnet.
Caveat: Tree #691
This tree seems a bit out of focus, to be frank. Who’s taking these pictures, anyway?
[daily log: walking, 2.5km; retailing, 8hr]
Caveat: Poem #1591 “A magic incantation”
ㅁ This boring haiku is boringer than the last. You feel sleepy now.
– a pseudo-haiku.
Caveat: Tree #690
This tree is tall.
[daily log: walking, 3km; retailing, 6hr]
Caveat: Poem #1590 “Default poem”
ㅁ I just can't resist marking my monotony with crappy haiku.
– a pseudo-haiku.
Caveat: Tree #689
This tree is next to that other tree.
[daily log: walking, 4km]
Caveat: Poem #1589 “In southeast Alaska”
ㅁ Yes it's true: the rain falls, lashes trees, more than a breeze, hits the walls, sea-biting, rock-eating squalls.
– an englyn penfyr.
Caveat: Tree #688
This tree saw yesterday’s sunrise and a brief clearing of the constant clouds.
[daily log: walking, 3km]
Caveat: Poem #1588 “The skeptic’s gaze”
ㅁ from my mind's fortress defenders cast rays of doubt at random objects
– a pseudo-haiku.
Caveat: Tree #687
This tree blends in among other trees on the northern California coast, near Trinidad. I took this picture in December, 1983. This is a digital scan of a print made from film – no digital cameras back then – I took the picture with a Pentax camera that Arthur had given to me.
[daily log: walking, 3km]
Caveat: Poem #1587 “Phantastic assertions”
ㅁ If there are no ghosts why do they visit me here? spinning through my dreams...
– a pseudo-haiku.
Caveat: Tree #686
This tree was hanging out by the sea.
[daily log: walking, 2km]
Caveat: Poem #1586 “Affirmations while walking”
ㅁ Among the bushes I don't believe in monsters and there are no ghosts
– a pseudo-haiku.
Caveat: Tree #685
This tree reached for the moon at dawn (8:30 AM).
[daily log: walking, 3km; retailing, 8hr]
Caveat: Poem #1585 “Erosion”
ㅁ water cuts canyons through the freshly placed gravel that's gravity's rule
– a pseudo-haiku.
Caveat: Tree #684
This tree leans into life.
It was so rainy today. Stormywindyrainy. I watched the rain fall sideways out the windows of the store in Craig, after a morning without electricity at home, having boiled water for instant coffee on the wood stove in the living room.
[daily log: walking, 4km; retailing, 6hr]
Caveat: Poem #1584 “As darkness tends to do”
ㅁ fragments of darkness impinge on my open eyes and reveal nothing
– a pseudo-haiku.