RB MN 83 14/ !2 Panels, riveted. A 797. Museum and friendship. United. SAH. Barwis. Avalanche atilt Avalanche. The coming snow. Rigging and staging. Staging and rigging. Nothing static. Wills. Star. Branch in road. Caucasian Sketches of Spain. Alexandria, library of unknown soldier leaves, no leaves. End.
On Trent. On train. Lobster and Co., Lehman. Sandy haired woman, sandy coat spaniel. Burgundy fur with black horses. Gertrude Jekyll cream of crop! After Lima? Then Bolivia. IMC. The numeral 36. Sunshine sublime. A shower of cards recent history. A house, a home. Life, mystery.
Yesterday started in Zurich, Swiss capital and concluded with cabbage. Heron under red bridge yesterday – sipping water – as it threaded through.
This morning, well, 5th R and a badger in Black Forest, Bing cherry. Story of bobcat stuck to grille meWowOw. Nussbaum…setting new ideas in motion. 10:00 a.m. Giving Tuesday. 8 !8
818. Debussy and $3.18 for breakfast. GRY-3451. Toast with Honey. Bentley company truck. R.E.S. among other things scene. “My scripture,” Luke said.
V S S in red and white. Three enormous metal pipes ridin’ the highway, (one) on top of the (others) (two). Moving right along. Walk. Walk. Talk. Talk. Triangulated tag. Blue heron flies across creek at 12:10. Afternoon keeping house. After housekeeping, mail gathering. Phone call ING. A shower of birthday cards from family. JOY. Tears, Antioch. Reaching out!
Off to printer’s. Checker 12. School Students 46. A over T 00017. A 77 and 513 Santander to first street. not oo late! Not by a latte long short shot.
Kitty City. Bing! Sur le pont d’Avignon. Dosie Dough for coffee and toast, courtesy of Mary and Adam. Extratra trivia question, if not metric, what? Je ne sais quois! Walk at Gring’s Mill + clear and stunning day. Petit frois. Today’s date owns curious magic square. Very very interesstinggg. Walked mmore south than north at fafafafirst. Une heron flew due west above course of creek at 10:10. Sunlight rested on rocks and climbed tree trunks, splashed leavvez with full and fading color. Squirrelz, of course, were out, and grewups of cyclists, families of trois generations and deux boys planting forked (Y ) stick at end of time.
by Allison DuBois
Internal pick of the litter yesterday morning : part of New York Times puzzle page with crossword diagram and pair of number puzzles under heading KenKen. The page was on carpeted steps linking first and second floors.
No sooner do I glance at this heading, thought of reversal enters in and KenKen becomes NekNek > neck neck. You could scramble letters for less intelligible results like keynote speaker.
A dear, deer friend who shares an interest in fishing and wading bird has been streaming photographs of herons.
Not long after the naming of day “Neck and Neck or KenKen,” I receive two photos of one heron each – the birds are prominent, the legs evident, bodies apparent. One is what I call egg butt heron pose, the other stands standard way. Look again. What springs to mind? They are Neck and Neck.
is a place in Pennsylvania along the Delaware River and also a combination of words that springs back to mind every so often, such as when peering over the side of Reber’s Bridge to see a stranded tree that is lodged in the middle of Tulpehocken creek and has two large branches from what is the left side as seen from this vantage point and another much more submerged one from right side, that divides off from trunk at lower point than other two, causing a swirl of water within space between tree trunk and submerged limb. To the other side, water flows clear and relative fresh, no sign of sudsy mud bubbles that are locked in if you but glance over hump of bark hull of partway sunken vessel. On the fresh side fishes a man with a natural net and some kind of metal pole – not his rod – that is laid in the water. He holds a rod in his hands – flash of grasshopper green – scene through the metal open grid.
It has been about 5 years, I think, since I have walked this upper end of the county park trail, a place I saw daily for several years. Much tree removal and trimming, part of the parks ongoing tree and trail plans. I have just come from the county recycling center which is open 8 to 1 on Tuesday. They accepted a stereo CD player our household wore out. Two men working there said today is quiet, Saturdays are very busy, with lines that begin at 7:15 in the morning and wrap around the barn, extend along Hilltop road. On a very busy day 280 vehicles in four hours, dropping off televisions and electronic equipment. What point of origin? All from Berks? Point of No Return. I test the tip jar, it works. They give me a magnet with 2017 Special Waste Collections information and let me know there will not be an event at the stadium.
The path I am on has one or two pathlings, four small red feathers, a jumbo black walnut with black and rust coloration enhanced by rainfall. A squirrel fetched something from the canal scampers through the water, which must be up to its belly, runs up a slope, scoots up a small tree with a number of low branching trunks. A small dead rodent, wet grey fur, lies in the grass. Some trees are draped with inches-thick vines, natural artistry, kind of a fhasion, show A turtle bobs in lock water, another turtle and another – try to discern markings on shells, try to divine them. Four turtles, one with sort of scarab and another flower. Scull and cross bones. A pirate band-aid, for real. “I am a camera.”
Upon return to trail head, a tall standing heron alert in the creek, accompanied by two fly-fishermen. Lovely grey color, beautiful fennel fanned feathers looks about. From the bridge, the bird seems to be on triangulate rock. Now, a runner on trail – wading bird rotates its head toward and opens beak possibly to comment on fellow two-legged creature.
In the parking lot men trim trees that would be, I believe, on federal government side of things. Antique Versalift boasts three red Keystone symbols that appear to have been painted or stencilled. One guy smokes cigar, two has chain saw and third takes off his yellow hard-hat, revealing soft baseball cap and he heads toward bridge, as if heron were calling.
One of my pillars of society was broken during night. Dark started at ten minutes to 11 o’clock, with o’possum wander along line of evergreen trees, poking around for snacks. Weathery. moist yore. A puncture in time 1:38. Sum rain had started had ceased. Loud airplane sound at 2:45.punctuated rest, and then, trash collection. More rains and winds picked up and whisked and whorled trees branches, stirring them from several directions. The Gaspe peninsula. Ruby climbed to top of trellis. The pillar is bone china or porcelain – white, a fluted column with gold tracing design lines of Corinthian capital style. Gold accents square base and round column bottom. Two are a pair I of candlesticks I useful for holding * one small light green and one blue * Christmas ball. The pieces can be glued together. Obtained through low bid: no one wanted them citing imperfection. A truck with stylised R, MACH II and TAC 24. Dawn came to dispel night by way of west. At eight sun delivered new day. Petits fleurs, flourish painted on ins and outs. Each ball fits Roman candle well. Orders.