Hautumnal

  What has the summer season to say today? After a few days away on business, I returned to the trail this morning to find it looking more fall-like, more autumn-ish, with ochre leaves on the ground here and there, not everywhere. 

   As if that weren’t enough, the bakery had put Green Mountain Autumn Blend in its own thermal carafe, replacing, I suppose, the raspberry or the blueberry staycation blends. Infused perfumery.

   While reading a dictionary at the hotel in the Hamptons where I was staying, making sudoku rebuses by collage, I read across the word for devout berry devourer: baccivorous, a word you don’t get to use every day, perhaps only on days after returning from business travel, (Bacca, berry, not getting as much face or press time as its meat, egg and vegetable counterparts).

   Berries are the best! except in coffee, and not with chocolate, which should be enjoyed separately or at the least with at least one other person and never with strawberries. Berries belong in the hand, in a berry bowl, pies and cakes, in fruit cup and on cheesecake. Strained raspberry jam, which becomes then jelly, should be made illegal. No supermarket should be allowed to sell it. Raspberry is emasculated when the rasp in the berry is removed. I like to eat the whole thing.

 

Purply Regal and Royal for a three (wood) day

   Back to the trail this morning – with reminders it is a three day and one wears a green tee shirt for three days unless the creative-controlling cycle dictates otherwise – or the laundry was not done as it ought to be on a one day.

  Three pigeons were upon the ramparts of the mill dam bridge, one was purplyregal and royal. Next, a catfish in the water that had not yet gone under the bridge, near some algae. A startled wood duck flew up and out of the way. The morning was humid, the sky muted grey, oystery. The wood duck was now swimming with three more of same.

   George – a fellow towpath regular – jogged by near the scene of some sawn sycamore branches. Not many other people were about, but after two miles and one startled runner entering the path from the covered bridge, more traffic developed: a biker, pair of runners, pair of walkers, three walkers three runners. I picked up a little round M tag for medium, an aspen leaf shaped like a heart and a pale cardinal feather, red and greyish red – there has to be a word to describe that – and a Trident gum wrapper with red and black lettering.

   Some of these found objects are found or variegated upon in the sudoku rebus for 8/30. What is missing in the middle is the boulder that was in the middle of the stream, with a top-hat of green plants and purple loose-strife. When the morning light struck it, it was gasp-worthy, it particularly reminded me of what cannot be described or spoken of. It was immaculate and green and pure.

   Also missing literally was the three foot stump of a tree that had been cut weeks ago. We who walk the path often we surprised by the removal of 80% of the above ground tree. Gradually we grew to be comfortable with and like the stump. You could sit on it, use it as a table-top, lean on it.

   In my kitchen is a photograph of a cat on a garden path, looking at a tree that has grown to fullness right in the middle of the path.  As a friend of mine said, the cat is saying ” whoa! how’d that get there? What’s that obstacle in my way?”

   Well, today the stump was vanished, the path smoothed over and the way open.

   One tall solid smooth lone heron stood ten yards upstream of the red covered bridge. The wader’s grey coat did not touch the water as the bird stood. Not haughty, just proud-looking.

Flour Arrows

   Monday morning’s walk, traces from a benefit run Sunday, the directional arrows to mark the path, were all that remained of the day that was yesterday. Strands of purple metallic confetti, a light purple ponytail holder and the purple loosestrife that blooms to brighten the dulling of summer were a trio of things that caught my eye. Whatever catches your eye alters chi, changes your energy.

   A heron was atop the fallen tree that is along creek’s edge near the barn that marks a distance of about half a mile from the mill. There are small rapids in the water there, just a bump in the current, not even a foot difference in level. The heron was looking left from this viewer’s point of view, right from his own two eyes.

   Few people, barely a bicycle. Another heron, this one in the water, upstream of the red covered bridge. A fisherman. The light coming onto the yellow houseboat that is part of the public buildings are of the park. The houseboat, named Mildred,  was once a coal scow on the canal. It was later turned into a grocer’s boat and eventually found its amphibious way onto the dry land where it now rests, all neat and painted and preserved, and sadly, a tad lifeless without the bustle of commerce inside and outside that must have taken place in the 1800’s.

   Something altered the last part of my walk, and rather than take the same-old way for the last mile, I went up and over the creek via the covered bridge – an odd experience in and of itself – and continued along the blacktop road and its edge.

   The heron was still on the branch. Now it was all tucked in, neatly whorled, feathers together and rounded shoulders to match the curve of its enfolded neck. The houses along the road had the trash placed for pickup. These are houses that flood when the water rises and the creek can’t contain it all. Today the houses look very pleasant and I wouldn’t mind living here. There is a faded flag hanging on the middle upper door of the barn, which has unusual cut out wood trim.

   Next in view, the stone wall that is part of the outer reaches of the state university extension.  The precision of its construction is very attractive in the east light, I find. The purple flowers above the road grade, (above the wall and set in a flower bed in the lawn) and the salmon, pink and red geraniums and impatiens throw off good vibrations, too!

   A policeman drives past and we nod to each other. There is a wad of fur along the edge of the road - remnants of a skunk, including the smell! The police car has paused a moment up the incline. When I reach that area, I see two fawns in the water, across the creek which is alongside the road. The young deer are standing in mirror formation: heads away from each other and tails in, and one can see as well their reflections in the water, creating a kind of double-triple mirroring that results in four fawns.

   Thinking about the flour arrows, some of them were worn as in run and trodden over, a few were intact, some were brushed away. And the ones in my mind became flower arrows and I went home to do my sudoku rebus for 8/25/2008, a remnant of my day.

Adopted! Raised by a wulf

   This morning was adopted by a dragonfly while out for my walk. It lay upside down on the path near the seven marker. When I put my finger near it, it grabbed onto the tip, and so rode about a mile on Sizzy’s index finger, the double wings spread out in classic wingspan form, it could have gotten a gold medal at the Olympics if it were a diver, but it already had some little gold shimmer along the edge at one spot.

   The dragonfly refused to leave when I returned to my chariot of fire and combustion engine, and so rode the two miles to the coffee shop and home. It seemed imprudent to take the insect into a confectionary establishment, so it waited in the car on the front seat where it was attached to a sage sweatshirt like a cat or dog will cling to your bed or body clothes.

   When I parked in the driveway, I chose to leave the dragonfly where it was – in the vehicle, with the garment. After I had done some work and was ready to head out, it was discovered to be gone – fly away fly away fly away home.

   Just call me a bug lady.

   Also a banner day for Herons. See my report.

Name unknown, parts unknown

   Anonymous and unlocated is one possibility in a four-square of identity and coordinates. Name plus longitude and latitude: Global positioning (geopositioning), and human positioning. Layout, layup and composition. Calm position. Consider positioning statement: business; player’s position: sports; actor upon stage or set. Hit your mark, marksman. Hitman.

name and parts

Nine mine

   Feng shui: today is a “9″ day (adding the digits in the day: one plus eight), and so when I’m thinking about that while driving and a bicyclist in red shorts goes by at a red light, there’s a great synchronicity to that: the color red is the color for this area.  It’s also the day for reputation, fame and respect. The beauty of keeping things clean. We straightened up the fame area of the house and did our work. The cyclist should have stopped at the light, though!

Perfect!

 A perfect day, clear blue sky, sunshine, 60°

Perfect Day, Perfect Love

Text from tape: Sir Phillip Sydney

My True-Love Hath My Heart

My true-love hath my heart, and I have his,

By just exchange, one for the other given.

I hold his dear, and mine he cannot miss:

There never was a bargain better driven.

His heart in me keeps me and him in one;

My heart in him his thoughts and senses guides:

He loves my heart, for once it was his own;

I cherish his because in me it bides…

My true love hath my heart and I have his.

five tool pitcher

average, power, baserunning, throwing and fielding
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DIY: Build Your Own Pyramid

   Once upon a time there was the food pyramid, the pyramid of Gizeh and the great Cheops. Would you like to have a pyramid of your very own? Make plans!

 

 

Vintage Spry to the rescue, triple creamed!

Your very own Spry pyramid:

Where are the palm trees? And some dates? WYSIWYG!

I Found A Fortune!

  At the outset of my walk this morning I was fortunate enough to find a fortune, from a cookie, a real fortune cookie, that read: “When you’re finished changing, you’re finished.”

  Paper bit incorporated into today’s Feng shui sudoku rebus, appearing late on bitemyhorse.com due to scanner malfunctions, not the scanner of course, but the operator. I take the hit, the heat and the flack! Full metal flack jacket.

I Wish I had babies

or something else to offer, all I have are my photographs and some compressed words; some coffee-pressed whole sentences from my bean, my noggin, my brain.

   I have my notes, I gave at the office and the dog ate my homework and I have a book of excuses, literally, it’s a book of excuses but I’m not playing around anymore. And I happen to think i can feng shui a football team or a wedding party and anything else in between those extremes. The text is the thing, and a picture is worth a thousand words. K.