bright purple flowers
H is for Hawk by Helen Macdonald
cedar waxwing on small ruby berries
walks along the water
turtles sunning on the edge of the marsh
bright red tomatoes with salt and olive oil
chips and home made salsa
outside cafe on a Sunday morning
making art in the afternoon
dark chocolate and croissants
small vanilla candles in the dark
1949 Ford pickup truck
river rocks in a porcelain bowl
sometimes it feels like we’re looking out through steel bars,
through bubbled glass
onto dry desert
and green thorns–
and sometimes it is heartbreakingly beautiful
and tragically dreadful all at once
i walked along the river
soaking in the calm and quiet summer evening–
how many shades of green could i see?
was that a finch calling out?
what kind of fish were jumping out of the water?
tonight there will be lightning bugs on the grass,
and i will catch a couple in my hand
and then set them free–
where are the lightning bugs during winter?
you were so tender then,
but the days passed,
your green stem began to bend,
and now i can say–
i knew you when
They run like lightning, with Juliet throwing her entire body on his, mid-run. He is strong and gives it back. They use their teeth in light biting or “mouthing”, never clamping down to cause pain. Occassionally, Juliet will snap at Roman, he either ignores her or snaps (in a much kinder way) in return, which makes her back away and take a break. They separate while playing and seek shade and distance. Then they come together again and the chasing and body slamming resumes. Sometimes they just lay together and rest.
Watching them play is one of my greatest pleasures and it makes me understand how much i have yet to understand.
dear peony, you looked so tired,
but ever so beautiful
home made candles
vases from the 50’s
musty books
pots filled with basil
black raspberry plants
bracelets that sparkled in the morning sun
platform shoes
cherry tomatoes
long asparagus
lush rhubarb
reindeer salt and pepper shakers
hand crafted end tables
ruby red strawberries
bunches of bib lettuce
bulbs of garlic
“Beauty, is reassuring.”
John-Paul Sartre
(from the poem: Lady Weeping At The Crossroads)
Lady, weeping at the crossroads
Would you meet your love
In the twilight with his greyhounds
And the hawk on his glove?
Poem excerpt by W. H. Auden, music written to this poem and sung by Carla Bruni from the album, No Promises, 2007
“Small, everyday things can lift us out of despair. But nobody can do it for you. You’re the one who has to watch for the open door.”
Donna Tartt, from the novel, The Goldfinch
spanishwoods 