ㅁ "Hang on!" said the dog, "This is very important: I gotta smell this."
– a pseudo-haiku.
Month: June 2023
Caveat: Tree #1602 “Abandoned”
This tree was at the top of the 10-mile hill, overseeing an abandoned car. That car has been there for 2 years now.
[daily log: walking, 4km; dogwalking, 3km]
Caveat: Ragged River
[This is a cross-post from my other blog.]
My low-effort bragpost for this week is something I created last month. This is a small town (maybe 8000 residents) in the northeast of my imaginary state of Makaska, named Ragged River, with a matching, smaller community across the parish boundary, called Howard. I haven’t completed it, especially the rural surroundings, but it’s complete enough to show I guess.
Here’s a screenshot of the location.
The link to the slippy map is here: https://opengeofiction.net/#map=15/-15.1153/146.7819&layers=B
Caveat: Poem #2508 “More of the same”
ㅁ chill rainfall visited the waiting trees as if they really wanted more moisture
– a tetractys
Caveat: Tree #1601 “광주 무등산”
This tree is a guest tree from my past. I took this picture of a tree just outside of Gwangju, South Korea, in June of 2010, on the flank of Mudeung Mountain (광주 무등산). I had gone there on a day-hiking trip with some colleagues from work. I believe the reservoir is this one (map link).
[daily log: walking, 4km;]
Caveat: Poem #2507 “Noise”
ㅁ There's an irony with a nearly deaf person: they are very loud.
– a pseudo-haiku.
Caveat: Tree #1600 “Deep in the forest”
This tree was among others.
[daily log: walking, 4.5km; retailing, 8hr]
Caveat: Poem #2506 “Causes, effects”
ㅁ some wind caressed the sea motivated the trees caused the birds to alter their plans made waves
– a cinquain.
Caveat: Tree #1599 “A stroll”
This tree witnessed a small family out for a morning stroll.
Unrelated, here is a quote that I found amusing:
“Never underestimate your fellow man’s lack of initiative.” – Bryan Caplan
To be clear, I take some issue with the author’s use of the gendered “fellow man” – it’s archaic, at this point, and there are plenty of more universalist alternatives that are utterly painless, e.g. simply “fellow human being’s” or even simply “other people’s” as opposed to “your fellow man’s”. That said, and given Caplan’s problematic relation (opposition) to feminism, perhaps we can take him at face value, and understand that he does, indeed, mean only men, here. In fact that might make the quote more amusing.
[daily log: walking, 5km; retailing, 8hr]
Caveat: suddenly what the trees try
Some Trees These are amazing: each Joining a neighbor, as though speech Were a still performance. Arranging by chance To meet as far this morning From the world as agreeing With it, you and I Are suddenly what the trees try To tell us we are: That their merely being there Means something; that soon We may touch, love, explain. And glad not to have invented Such comeliness, we are surrounded: A silence already filled with noises, A canvas on which emerges A chorus of smiles, a winter morning. Placed in a puzzling light, and moving, Our days put on such reticence These accents seem their own defense. - John Ashbery (American poet, 1927-2017)
Caveat: Poem #2505 “The hermit”
ㅁ Some days when I wake up, I feel anti-social. I don't want to deal with people. No words.
– a cinquain.
Caveat: Tree #1598 “Waiting for illumination”
#Photography #SoutheastAlaska
This tree experienced a moment of illumination.
I got some baby lettuce out of my greenhouse, thinning the patch somewhat.
Art had a doctor’s appointment this morning. Just some lab tests, nothing related to changed diagnosis. It took a long time because they wanted a urine sample, and that’s not something Art does on demand these days. I’ve always felt he’s chronically dehydrated, but I simply cannot convince him to drink more fluids.
[daily log: walking, 3km;]
Caveat: Poem: Volume 3: Mostly among Trees
My third volume of poetry is published.
This includes daily poems from mid 2020 through mid 2022. Paperback copies can be purchased on Amazon (link) or, as with the earlier volumes, free PDF’s are downloadable on my Books page (link). As with all the poems, they’re also available online on this here blog.
Caveat: Poem #2504 “Autonomous cartography”
ㅁ The map as it's rendered shows the territories unbounded by reality; set free.
– a cinquain.
Caveat: Tree #1597 “Fire”
This tree saw me make a fire just west of our kitchen.
[daily log: walking, 3km; dogwalking, 3km]
Caveat: Poem #2503 “An untamed character”
ㅁ I dreamed I found a typo in a poem, but when I went to fix it I could not. The typo squirmed away like some small beast, escaping from my cursor, while I cursed.
– a quatrain in blank verse (iambic pentameter).
Caveat: Tree #1596 “Greenery”
This tree stood front and center.
[daily log: walking, 4km; dogwalking, 3km]
Caveat: Poem #2502 “Semiotic behavior”
ㅁ birds suggest various alternatives other birds just ignore their colloquies
– a tetractys.
Caveat: Tree #1595 “Launchtime”
This tree (maybe one on the nearer shore on the left) witnessed that we managed to get the boat out of the boathouse and into the water. We parked it at our dock, but it has to share the dock with our new neighbors’ boat, since their dock isn’t built yet.
[daily log: walking, 7.5km; dogwalking, 2km]
Caveat: Poem #2501 “Recent events”
ㅁ The days pile up and make a blur; procrastination rules. The nights provide their pointless dreams; intentions are for fools.
– a quatrain in ballad meter.
Caveat: Tree #1594 금산사에 갔던 기억이 나요
This tree is a guest tree from my past. I took this picture in February, 2010, at the Geumsan Temple in South Korea (금산사), where I was staying for a 5-day “templestay” – a kind of intensive lay Buddhist monk experience. It’s the entrance area. The temple is one of the more famous ones in the peninsula.
[daily log: walking, 5km; dogwalking, 3km]
Caveat: Poem #2500 “Keeping count”
ㅁ Twenty-five hundred random poetic objects: some are good; some aren't.
– a pseudo-haiku. This numerological poem is actually not accurate – I know this for a fact. There have been several instances of “hiccups” in my numbering system, such that actually this poem is probably 2502 or 2503…. But it’s too difficult to go back and re-number everything.
Caveat: Tree #1593 “The fawn”
This tree was offering shelter to a young deer.
[daily log: walking, 4.5km;]
Caveat: Poem #2499 “Mindful”
ㅁ mute dreaming the planet sought a meaning through computations effected by stepwise improvements to molecules over long periods of time so by making monkeys made a mind
– a reverse nonnet.
Caveat: Tree #1592 “Why did it cross the road?”
This tree saw a deer cross the road (bottom center).
[daily log: walking, 4km; retailing, 8hr]
Caveat: 35 segundos
Destino Lo sabéis amigos no volveremos más. La virtud de la lluvia se aniquila en los soles y el viento entre las flores se sumerge en la sangre de los toros. Sólo los viejos vagabundos al morir pueden saber quizá el secreto de la hora derramada y el porqué de la mujer húmeda en estío. Pero nosotros no. No podemos volver. Es imposible calavera mariposa el tiempo entre la niebla seducido. Somos nosotros mismos el ritmo pereciente y nuestro gesto la invisible caracola de la muerte primavera pura aniquilada en incesantes mundos destruidos. Nada más. Tan sólo eso. Un levantar baldío de los brazos para recoger el mar que se nos huye pletórico de ahogados y de olvidos. Un lamento también y un querer crear agujeros en el agua mansa de los recién nacidos. Mientras os alejáis cantando juventudes yo permanezco aquí mudo y atónito como un muerto inmortal soñando vida inmensa y una antigua e inconcebible libertad. No volveremos más. Es cierto amigos. Atardece. La estatua el árbol la hormiga y esta pena mía tan hermosa se confunden en la mente ignorada de las manos. 35 segundos han pasado en mi reloj de Pulsera. - Miguel Labordeta (poeta español, 1921-1969)
Caveat: Poem #2498 “Tokens”
ㅁ some books on my bookshelves have not in fact been read they represent aspirations vague plans
– a cinquain.
Caveat: Tree #1591 “The path”
This tree was next to a path.
[daily log: walking, 5km; dogwalking, 3km]
Caveat: Poem #2497 “Spruce tips”
ㅁ spruce tips pale green needles bunched up, like tree-fingers each one pointing outward, groundward, from trees
– a cinquain.
Caveat: Tree #1590 “A drive to Thorne Bay”
This tree was hanging out with some other trees on the outskirts of Thorne Bay, off on the other side of our island.
It’s about an hour and half drive from Rockpit to Thorne Bay. I went there because our new neighbors (who bought the lot where the house burned down in 2019) arrived by boat from down south, and they needed a taxi service over to Thorne Bay to pick up their truck with trailers, which was delivered via barge. All the barges to the island land over there – it’s more convenient on the east side of the island, directly adjacent to the Alaskan “inside passage”.
When I got home, I found a zucchini flower in my greenhouse, despite the persistent rain and obstinately gray skies.
[daily log: walking, 4.5km;]
Caveat: 호랑이 굴에 들어가야 호랑이 새끼를 잡는다
I found this aphorism in my book of Korean aphorisms.
호랑이 굴에 들어가야 호랑이 새끼를 잡는다
ho.rang.i gul.e deul.eo.ga.ya ho.rang.i sae.kki.reul jap.neun.da
tiger den-INTO enter-OBLIGATION tiger cub-OBJ catch-PRES
[One] must enter the tiger’s den [in order to] catch a tiger cub.
“No pain, no gain.”
If you really want to catch a tiger cub, there’s nothing that will do short of entering the tiger’s den. “Nothing ventured, nothing gained” is one possible English equivalent.
Caveat: Poem #2496 “Overheard tweets”
ㅁ some birds log in, mornings, and make declarations, many repetitive statements, all day
– a cinquain.
Caveat: Tree #1589 “Down along the shore”
This tree noted there is still some snow on yonder mountains.
[daily log: walking, 4km; dogwalking, 3km]