Once again, i find myself with a mouthful of saltwater, swimming hard and yet making no headway against the tide of time and photos. How has a full month passed since the last time we spoke? I find that ridiculous.
On one count is the small blip in the local purity of life; I had been leading such a sw
eet and good existence, measuring my molecules against minuscule happenings and events -- life on a grandly internal and microscopic scale. As a lone humming electron, things take on importance greater than previously thought and the weighty import of a flock of turkeys surprised mid-grobble does not go unnoticed.
eet and good existence, measuring my molecules against minuscule happenings and events -- life on a grandly internal and microscopic scale. As a lone humming electron, things take on importance greater than previously thought and the weighty import of a flock of turkeys surprised mid-grobble does not go unnoticed. I manag
ed to form a week -- series of days, they tell me -- out of a small number of canned goods. Very Small Early Young Peas were Monday, if I remember, and then it was a Sweet Potato Tuesday, in memory of John Steinbeck. Not that I didn't enjoy the eating, but really the heart of the endeavour lay in the lanterns that were subsequently fashioned with coat hanger and candle, peas and potatoes noticeably stomached.
ed to form a week -- series of days, they tell me -- out of a small number of canned goods. Very Small Early Young Peas were Monday, if I remember, and then it was a Sweet Potato Tuesday, in memory of John Steinbeck. Not that I didn't enjoy the eating, but really the heart of the endeavour lay in the lanterns that were subsequently fashioned with coat hanger and candle, peas and potatoes noticeably stomached.Then there was an aged visitor, of inanely Canadian disposition and brimming with banter; she reminded me of a William Steig drawing, and although she claimed she co
uld not abide by the noise of the ugly world, as she put it, she simply would not shut up. The morning after her arrival at the cabin it snowed a small amount, and at the first doubting word from her mouth, I smartly saluted, snapped to attention, and promptly carried her backpack for her up and out of the canyon, so resolute was I in my desire for her un-presence. Oog -- the mind, or at least the ear, boggles.
uld not abide by the noise of the ugly world, as she put it, she simply would not shut up. The morning after her arrival at the cabin it snowed a small amount, and at the first doubting word from her mouth, I smartly saluted, snapped to attention, and promptly carried her backpack for her up and out of the canyon, so resolute was I in my desire for her un-presence. Oog -- the mind, or at least the ear, boggles. This is as close to a picture of her as I have.
At our parting, when I handed her pack, I turned sharply left and climbed into the cliffs, offering no shoulder to follow. I climbed up and up and up, and found myself among and under boulders the size of pre
historic double-decker buses or perhaps small hibernating continents, breathing slowly in and shuddering slowly out. I wedged myself into a crevice only by dint of releasing all the air in my chest cavity, and found that what I had hoped was a wrens nest was actually a pile of poop, left by some enterprising small mammal. I have rarely felt so soft and like-to-be-filleted-by-life, as when contemplating my own squishy mortality in such a geological sausage-grinder.
historic double-decker buses or perhaps small hibernating continents, breathing slowly in and shuddering slowly out. I wedged myself into a crevice only by dint of releasing all the air in my chest cavity, and found that what I had hoped was a wrens nest was actually a pile of poop, left by some enterprising small mammal. I have rarely felt so soft and like-to-be-filleted-by-life, as when contemplating my own squishy mortality in such a geological sausage-grinder.Unfortunately, all I have for you from that adventure is a humble Yucca, whose life I took and whose roots I pulverized to make Amole and wash my skivvy scalp. How vainglorious is man! How cruel is life! How light and buoyant is my hair!
There is, however, prom
ise of a very small cave, which shall be slept in by me and hopefully few other creepies and crawlies. I think I will line the entrance with Cholla cactus, the better to dissuade nightly snakes and to stab myself in the hands the following morn.
ise of a very small cave, which shall be slept in by me and hopefully few other creepies and crawlies. I think I will line the entrance with Cholla cactus, the better to dissuade nightly snakes and to stab myself in the hands the following morn.
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