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?
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.
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.
At this moment it’s 8:23am, foggy, misty and 53 degrees. The tide is just coming in the river. The air quality is moderate.
At this moment it’s 8:20am, 57 degrees, the tide is going up the river, with a cool breeze.
I am sitting on a chair,
eating an egg cheese sandwich
next to a table where
a blue jay is alighting
my seem absurd
The surprise is I’m not surprised
a natural way of recognition
maybe a sacred moment
an angel disguised as a bird
a simple intimate detail of grace.
Below on the walking path
mountain hikers indulge the outdoors, sunshine
somewhere, everywhere the virus rages.
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.
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.
Can I see it or feel it?
I walk to the river
The part of the world opens
Other walkers walk alone
Or with their dogs or with other walkers
Nature greets us in songs and colorful displays
Do we need measurements
And ask : Will experience be sublime?