Month: September 2020
We meet once in a farmer’s market
You are selecting a peach, I’m buying okra
Talk and walk and laugh
You spin a loom, I wield an ax
Gather, break, understand
Happy when together
A long beautiful day we wish each other
Before we wave goodbye
Cups of coffee and talks
Walks along the river
What is abstract
A question of enchantment
How do we measure
Content or duration
Are dimensions important?
Two of a kind maybe,
hummingbird and forsythia
contentment and envy
twins one minute apart
one is humming, the other whistling
shouting in anger, reciting a praise
eating noodles with fork, the other with chopsticks
I will go, you stay
riding a kayak, each one paddling
I look at you, you are smilimg
coffee or tea
Gosh, I forget, you remember
I thought you have the key, in my other pants
I say goodbye, you say goodbye
A bird and my shadow may seem near but far apart
one perches on a fence, the other verges on another
The sun smiles on us.
falls down on your hair
one leaf at a time
like a whisper of a song
I’m trying to remember
when I first met you
Last 3 Days of Walking
For the last 3 days our air quality is good. I have been walking to the river daily.
Thursday-7000 steps. Friday-9000 steps. Today, Saturday-9000 steps.
All the photos from my mobile phone.
This is the walking path below the street level thats goes to the river. The river is behind me.
Below are my photos today.
Early this morning the fog still veils the southern crossing and the bridge is not visible .
The sun is just starting to come out. Sun’s reflection in the river.
The white egret and the fisherman are not talking to each other.
The street that leads to the river and parallel and higher level to the pathway on the right. I’m facing the direction towards the river.
- A Time of Gifts
- broken and restored
- canna lily
- cardiac fitness
- eternal life
- fried-egg poppies
- glacier, life, Oliver Sacks
- gospel of John
- hot air balloon
- immensity of God
- Lake Tahoe
- life and art
- Marcel Duchamp
- Napa Valley vineyards
- Patrick Leigh Fermor
- prayer, namaste
- The Goldfinch
- way to love
- white flower
Returning from the river I connect to this sidewalk to continue my walk.
Sept 9, 2020
Wednesday, 9:29 am
This morning the sun gets buried in the sky
The streets are dim and quiet
No sounds of cars moving
The air is still, frozen
The morning looks like late afternoon.
I go downstairs, open the front door
Outdoors is dark.
I open the news in my mobile.
To see if there is an explanation
Emergency service office reports smoke and ash
are drifting towards us.
Later I learned that I was not the only one astonished.
New fires are raging.
I don’t know if the birds are crying.
My Tuesday Walk to the River
Why will someone leaves a helmet on a bench
Or hide an empty Remy Martin under a shrub
Around us from a safe distance, wild fires rage
Smokes drift our way
The sun is burning orange
My mistake is to try capture the spectacle
Forgetting my focus can burn my eyes
Walking home a hummingbird catches my eye
Dancing from one flower to the next
In time of the pandemic is everything relevant?
The Bird of Prey
One bird perches in a tree
The other rises up towards infinity
Then dips skimming the river surface
The tide starts flowing up the river
I have a glimpse of one’s life
I will be dining with a friend.
The robot is looking for me
Lifts all the pillows on the sofa
Opens the closets, shakes all the coats
I am with a friend next door.