This tree will accept Spring’s challenges.
Arthur said something quite lucid this evening, after we ended our weekly skype conversation with his brother Alan (my other uncle). Arthur said, “I think my memory is operating at about 2%.” That seems about right to me, I hate to say.
[daily log: walking, 2.5km;]
ㅁ Sunday's "Don't do list": Don't bring up resurrections that never happened.
– a pseudo-haiku.
This tree off beyond the treehouse’s balcony.
A joke: “You’ll never know what kind of impact you’ll have on this earth until you fall down.”
[daily log: walking, 2km;]
ㅁ Darn. Woke up, feeling pleased, poem ready! But then I forgot to write it down. Sad.
– a tetractys.
This tree was a scraggly, bare tree planted in the sidewalk behind the fire station across the street from my apartment in Ilsan, South Korea. I was noting that some snow had fallen in December, 2013.
Still haven’t been feeling super healthy. So I ended up being quite lazy today – didn’t accomplish much at all.
Saw this online. It’s interesting to think about.
Grab a couple of dice. Roll them. If you get below 5, those are rookie numbers. Shout at the dice, let them know they’re underperforming. If you get above 9, that’s what we want to see! They’re good dice, and you should acknowledge that. Repeat that and keep a record. You’ll notice that negative feedback often results in better performance on the next roll. Positive feedback, conversely, can make them get lazy. When you truly understand why this method of dice management works, you are ready to give feedback to people.
[daily log: walking, 1.5km;]
ㅁ Ducks, afloat, biding time, awaiting peers... then they can all swim to the other side.
– a tetractys.
This tree formed part of the horizon.
[daily log: walking, 4km; retailing, 9hr]
ㅁ Time offers solace, or perhaps it's just staleness... are they different?
– a pseudo-haiku.
This tree was bent.
I had a pretty terrible day. Feeling “under the weather” and suffering a couple of financial “gotchas” at the store. Feeling inadequate the tasks I’ve taken on for myself.
[daily log: walking, 5.5km; retailing, 9hr]
ㅁ Once, driving across North Dakota, I crashed into a butterfly. At the time I didn't know, but later, stopped for gas, its beautiful corpse hung there limply: the bumper gave it rest.
– a nonnet.
This tree was below some sparse clouds.
A silly joke: My wife screamed “you haven’t listened to a single word I’ve said, have you?!” I was taken aback….what a weird way to start a conversation.
[daily log: walking, 4.5km; retailing, 9hr]
ㅁ The clouds duly presented themselves for our cursory inspection. Their shapes and colors and lines manifested, dreamlike: a painterly view, as if brushstrokes had been drawn across air.
– a nonnet.
This tree beheld a dark raincloud.
Funny joke seen online: “My neighbor couldn’t afford his water bill, so I got him a ‘Get Well Soon’ card.”
[daily log: walking, 5km; retailing, 9hr]
ㅁ Some birds showed up here in the tree past my window and made lots of noise.
– a pseudo-haiku.
This tree had a view of the sea.
[daily log: walking, 1.5km;]
ㅁ Sunday's "don't do list": don't write a rant about roads that no one will read.
– a pseudo-haiku.
This tree anticipated more photons, soon.
I was planning to write a long rant about road maintenance and technocracy… but I’m too tired and can’t be bothered. Imagine that a rant was written.
[daily log: walking, 3.5km; retailing, 4hr]
ㅁ The seagull sat, fat and round and white, as if a short break from eating might perhaps be justified; perched on the metal arch over the wood dock, watching the world, witnessing sun, sea, trees.
– a nonnet.
This tree is under a giant Korean flag. I took this picture in January, 2009, walking home from work on a Saturday afternoon.
It’s good to not get too monotonous with the local tree-pics.
[daily log: walking, 1.5km;]
ㅁ The road inspired negativity: those potholes cruelly covered by hubristic gravel loads, spread by excavators and dim road graders, up and down slopes... the buried potholes wait.
– a nonnet.
This tree noted the lack of progress on the little house thingy (I call it the “pre-house”) on Lot 73. I’m not bothered by this – the neighbor who’s doing this project for me has had other jobs that are much higher priority, involving improvements to his own lot. The pre-house will wait.
The reason I call it the pre-house is because the future actual house will be attached to it – at which point, this structure becomes a kind of previously-existing small appendage to the future house.
[daily log: walking, 3.5km; retailing, 9hr]
ㅁ The moon's disk peered down through the trees, lapping at their ragged branches, like an over-eager dog. A wind shifted the trees; the moonshadows danced and drew patterns on the wall. So I watched.
– a nonnet.
This tree saw unseasonal morning sunshine on the first day of Spring. I still expect we’ll see a bit more snow at some point, but who knows – the weather here isn’t very predictable in that respect.
[daily log: walking, 4km; retailing, 9hr]
ㅁ Hearing the birds begin their strange songs outside my lair's attic window, heralding an early spring, I'm filled only with dread. Spring is not my thing. The elderly awaken... impose tasks.
– a nonnet.
This tree was briefly lit by a departing sun.
[daily log: walking, 5km; retailing, 9hr]
ㅁ The world started flat, but through the epochs, it aged, becoming a sphere.
– a pseudo-haiku.
This tree saw Richard’s excavator in the neighborhood. I suppose excavators make trees tremble with fear.
[daily log: walking, 4km; retailing, 9hr]
ㅁ The road was long, the sun did shine, it seemed spring had arrived. He sat to rest beside the road, surprised he had survived.
– a quatrain in ballad meter.
This tree is a young bay laurel tree I had in a bucket in the house. It did really well for about a year then just mysteriously seems to have died (or having grown quite unhealthy, began approaching death asymptotically) a few weeks ago. I am very sad.
[daily log: walking, 1km;]
ㅁ Today's "don't do list": Don't go to work on Sunday. Don't struggle with work.
– a pseudo-haiku.
This tree was in some snow a a few weeks ago, at the 8-mile bridge. I am showing this picture because I didn’t take a fresh tree picture today.
Art took a walk down the road today, and apparently (I wasn’t there) sat down (or lay down?) to “rest” and someone thought he was a body in the road and “rescued” him and brought him home. Art claims nothing went wrong he was just resting. I’m not so sure.
[daily log: walking, 4.5km;]
ㅁ Apropos yesterday's reflection: Arthur and I skyped with my mom. "You doing anything fun?" she asked him, just to talk. His answer: "Not yet." Seventy-nine... maybe time to have fun.
– a nonnet.
This tree is a guest tree from my past. I took this picture in April, 2011, at the rural public school where I worked, in Yeonggwang County, South Korea.
[daily log: walking, 2.5km;]
