family, nature, technology, weather

water and lights

well my pretties . . .
Hurricane Isabel was no joke,
day 3 here with no power
which also means, no water.
i’ve been hiberating like a bear.
amazing how the body will shut down
when there is no regular stimulus
even the hum of A/C and underlying vibration of power.

you would not BELIEVE what i had to do to get online.

my prince of a man went and drove to PA from MD
to get a generator, and soon we’ll be semi-functional
but before this, i had a converter
hooked up to a DeWalt powerdrill battery
and that was connected to my brother-in-law’s laptop
and then, good old dialup as the phones still work.
i have 3 online classes this semester
so . . . i NEED to get on this bastard
and hopefully get to my own resources soon.

myth, nature, weather

Sweet September

There is this little house on the corner
where an old couple lives.
They tend to a rather beautiful garden
with fountains and a pond and flowerbeds
and lilac brush and such.
They sit there at a tiny card table
with a plastic flower drapecloth over it
and a cold sweaty iced-tea pitcher between them.
He reads the paper and glances up occasionally
while she watches the people
and the cars with people in them go by.
They look like old but hopeful Kool-Aid salesmen
of long ago summers.

hot and fluttery summertime
well – you can leave now
and so can your crashing storms
that bring the trees down
and light up my room at night
when i am dreaming of crunching leaves
beneath my boots . . .

i am SUCH a sweater grrrrl of gray and black and red and brown and tawny and earthy personable colors and depth. I cannot wait for Autumn and leaves and hot donuts and cider and pumpkins and cocoa and yes those boots especially that scrunch into the earth. Warm clothes and cool breeze.

i feel the shift and the cycle and the time for reflection and transformation, though i try to busy myself in the colors and the wonder of this change. i write better, i think deeper, i feel warmer, i concentrate on goals, i see things clearer.

September is my favorite. 9th month. 9 the number of completion in a cycle. 9 like magic and like cat tails and incantations. SEPT- for seven and -EMBER for fire. September used to be the 7th month in the old calendric cycle. And September has the 23rd, the first day of the Fall Equinox. Yummy — my spirit says bring it on. I am washing sweaters already.

who wants to rake leaves?
tsh –
i want to bed down in them
and wear them in my hair.

nature, weather

wings and things

ahhh what a gorgeous day.
77 degrees, no humidity, a cloudless sky
four hours of sleep the previous nite
high on adrenaline and life,
and a field of moths and butterflies . . .

health, myth, nature

darkness

light elvin things
often retreat to dark places.
damp caves and mossy quiet.
seems i am exploring that side just now.

because i cannot see
a breadth of light
i am submerging instead
so i will better appreciate it.

i hope i come out
with some thoughtful gifts.

health, nature

beauty and the itchy beast

out here in the sticks
the poison ivy is not only a bush
but a thick rope vine that snakes up the trees.
we occasionally hack it down and it mixes with
the bottom layers of leaves and grass.
we forget to haul it away and kill it.

then people like me go traipsing through it
while planting a new flowering crepe myrtle
and shooting pictures of the misty moon
and where the opening in my Birkenstocks are
between the straps are two think patches of
MADDENING RED IRRITATION!

:sigh:
Mother Nature is pretty
and awesome . . .
but she itches like hell.

nature, photography, weather

creature feature

i hope i don’t bore you all
with the billion bugs
and the few thousand flowers.

should i go photograph buildings
or portraits
or industrial scenes
or road kill?

as a writer, i tend to write what i know
and what – photographers shoot what they see?
so YOU see what i SEE, i suppose.
and though i do have concepts
i have mostly fortunate scenery . . .

i see five acres of forest,
i see horses and trees and flowers
i see explosive colors everywhere
and everywhere i go i see
a picture.

today while driving i saw
a lightning storm
a rainbow
a row of trees
blinking on and off with
the million green lights
of fireflies
a once impeccable white classic car
with hanging fuzzy dice
badly wrecked on the side of the road.

and i wonder at how to capture it all.
and will i have time?

food, friends, nature, relationships, technology

wonderful day

gaw – what a great day i had yesterday!
a really laid back warm and wonderful birthday …
i woke up late didn’t shower until 3pm
took a nature walk,

washed my car . . . which always consists of pulling snails off the hood
and shooing spiders so i don’t blast them with the hose
and looking out for passing butterflies.

at 8pm i met a friend Jennifer for dinner and had an incredible meal:

baked brie with mango, strawberries, grapes and oranges, filet mignon with chive mashed redskin potatoes and grilled asparagus, a bottle of champagne, and for dessert, a chocolate truffle in pecans with a glass of 6-grape port, and an awesome coffee drink with real whipped cream, the stiff kind, not the fluffy stuff.

We had a window view overlooking a mouth of the Chesapeake Bay and watched a light show of heat lightning until the rain crashed in. i went to the valet who i told didn’t need to go get my car as i could see it, so instead he followed me out with an umbrella over my head for a walk and closed my door for me. Hug

afterwards we went back to her place and shared a bottle of shiraz and an endearing two-hour conversation.

Jennifer bought me a flowering tree called a crepe myrtle which is currently potted at 3ft but will grow to be 25 feet.

i love plants as opposed to flowers. as my boyfriend says “giving flowers is like cutting off the sex parts and handing someone a bouquet of penises, it’s best to be alive and keep growing” and i agree live plants . . . it’s the gift that keeps on giving.

then the topper — i came home and my boyfriend had a really nice gift for me: a 10 GB iPod! we had a good laugh about my love of little gadgets and how different i am in that i don’t want clothing or jewelry or perfume and how that makes it easier to buy for. and that he sees my appreciation for music and technology.

and then — some wonderful lovemaking <3

humor, nature, writing

Deerly Beloved

It’s September. It’s an unusually temperate afternoon and I’m driving from work in Annapolis to home in Friendship. Yes — I live in a town called Friendship, and yes, it’s as charming as the name boasts. I’m driving down a southern Maryland “one-lane going each way” country road, and the trees are leaning in, casting off brown, yellow, and red whispers.  Van Morrison is on the radio, singing about fishing holes and stoning me to my soul when ahead in the road, both directions come to a dead stop. As I approach something is flailing around in the road ahead. A large bird — (Albatross!) I think poetically like Samuel Taylor Coleridge and then comically like Monty Python. But no, more likely a goose or a turkey vulture, too greedy to move and struck dumb with its belly full of some other unfortunate roadside creature.  As I edge closer, the wings become hooves and I see it’s a mid-sized deer just exiting fawnhood and just short of becoming the adult Bambi version, perhaps around 80 or 90 pounds.

My mind begins to chatter and I think,”Oh Christ, if I have to look at a dying, bleeding, suffering creature with cars stopped to watch I’m just gonna freak right out!”

There is no blood, no glass, no tire-tracks, no smoke, no wrecked car or any sign that something bad has just gone down, just this beige, many-legged thing in the road trying to right itself and get on its feet. It does, then falls, gets up, scrambles and kicks some more in a circle, and goes on repeating this for a good minute or so. It struggles and reels and lurches like it’s just been born.  I have the sudden urge to just get out of my car and do something.  WHAT exactly, I don’t know, but SOMETHING.  Finally, a man in a white utility van swerves from behind me, pulls over, and gets out, crossing the road and the stopped traffic.  What happened next was one of the most endearing actions I think I have ever seen between man and animal.

A big, brawny, lumberjack looking young man in blue jeans and boots and red plaid goes out to the deer.  His hair is shaved close to his head like a military man and he walks, almost trudges, like he has a lot to carry; his arms bow out at his sides like whale bones. Like they’ve grown that way. Like something rotund and invisible, two rolled sleeping bags perhaps, are tucked beneath each arm. He doesn’t cautiously approach the deer or walk around it looking for an angle or a way to avoid being injured in the process of trying to help.  He simply bends down, scoops the deer into his arms with its hooves up and cradles it, like a child that has just wiped out in a neighborhood bicycle crash.

He carries the deer out to the opposite side of the road, bends at the waist, and sets it down lightly, like an offering. Once it stands up, he tries to chase it up the forested embankment so it might run to freedom.  The deer looks like it’s up and running, then sadly, just as the man turns to go back to his van, and traffic attempts to resume, everything stops again.  We watch the deer slides helplessly back down the hill, through the brush, pulling a tangle of roots and leaves with it, and back out into the road where it proceeds to do its “flailing” thing once more. Its leg must’ve been injured, I think to myself.  Perhaps it WAS hit, or maybe it broke its leg this way the first time it fell down the hill.

The man turns back to pick the deer up — again. By this time I decide to pull over and watch the whole thing transpire.  The minimal effort with which the man hoists this creature up amazes me. The deer looks too big to be handled. It struggles a bit, and I hear the man telling it to “quit fussin'” which makes me think this looks rather like managing a 14 year-old adolescent having a temper tantrum.

Another motorist walks up the length of stopped cars and presents the deer-man with a cellular phone.  I hear them discussing calling the city or animal control and they decide to call 911 to get the numbers or at least some initial help.  Meanwhile, the man holds the deer, cradled, upside down with both hands collecting two hooves apiece to hold it still. Hog-tied, as it were. The deer’s breathing is quick and light, like a mother giving birth, and the panicked breaths of fear. Its eyes are large and deep and dark like an alien child. As absurd as the situation looks, everything appears to be under control, traffic begins to crawl along and people call sentiments out of their car windows as they pass.

“YEAH!!!!”
“That was GREAT!”
“Thank you!”
“God Bless you!”

No one honked,  (they might’ve frightened the deer further) they simply waved quietly and smiled.  The deer-man held the animal like a proud father and I drove the rest of the way home, feeling pretty good about the natural world for a change.