It’s summer and school is on vacation. The mountain trail has a
lot of hikers and cyclists.
The scent of pine, fresh air, and spacious outdoors are magnets.
I ventured out yesterday. I felt so free and energized.
Mrs. Abstract watched me returned from my hike.
On the second day while acclimatizing to the altitude I watched from the balcony people who came down from the mountain passed by.
Some walked, some biked down in their mountain bikes.
I’m reading Dante’s Inferno and 2666 slowly.
After a few days delay Mrs. Abstract and I finally drove up the mountains today. We were scheduled to leave on Monday but I did not feel well. I felt better last night. We brought a lot of food to limit trips to the grocery store and limit eating out in restaurants.
We will try to stay inside the condo. Walk and hike in the woods, reading and maybe writing. I play chess while Mrs. Abstract watch movies.
It’s quiet here in the mountains although when we arrived there were thunderstorms.
Books I am reading: Divine Comedy by Dante. Translated by Hollander & Hollander. I’m starting Roberto Bolaño 2666.
Invent reality?
Is there a minimum of thought
One has to do everyday?
She is playing a guitar
and humming then singing
about ideas and consequences
then stops and starts writing furiously
“Examine your own courage
if you can get up every morning
with a better will than the day before?”
A cat comes, nozzles in her arms
She touches her with equal affection
then she looks at me and exclaims:
“Is it sad or meaningful or ostentatious to say—
I hiked Switzerland the whole summer?
Or I hug cows to relieve my stress?”
The cat jumps, goes to the window, sits purring.
Time folds, distorts harmony of living
Why bemoans the loss during the pandemic
Thousands are dying, millions lost their jobs,
thousands are lining up for food.
Time has changed unlike any other time:
A call for one another to stay together.
A little bird in the river
perches on a pile of rocks
looks at me measuring my presence
I watch standing, still for a few seconds,
thinking of a step closer,
the bird flies away.
One fisherman
alone in the river
fish merrily play
The past are things I do not know
The present are things I can not touch
The future is a cat in the act of jumping
“Deep in your soul you don’t want to be the last.”
I decide I will go south
To master something I have to comprehend it first
I will carry a camera with a simple admonition
“How can I make them blind to my presence?”
I walked to the river before noon. Mrs. Abstract was doing her aquatic exercises in a friend’s pool.
The day was sunny with a warm breeze. Other walkers were enjoying the day. The fishermen were patient. The boaters were in full colors.
Happy Independence Day.
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