Monday, October 10, 2011

Hello dear love, the most gorgeous summery day again. Even now, as dusk approaches, windows are open and I hear crickets chirping, and the distant rhythmic thrum of cars passing on the highway. I went for a walk at the conservation area this morning. I haven't been there in a while, so the scenery seemed especially dramatic to me, since I hadn't been there to note small, daily, incremental changes over intervening weeks. Suddenly, visually, it was fall, and yet the tail end of summer too - with monarch butterflies flitting through the wild-aster strewn meadows. They seem quite sentient, those monarchs, they seemed to sense my approach as some sort of danger, because I could never get close enough to photograph one before it darted away, always several yards ahead or away from me. I marvel at the power of their tiny wings. Those creatures move - I believe that when they have a mind to (which individual monarchs I observed today did) they can fly faster than I can run. Which isn't saying much, since I'm no sprinting athlete, but still, considering the tiny size of those delicate wings, and the constant uncertainty of their existence. Monarchs like milkweed - do asters sustain? Don't be fooled that it's still summer - it's October! Don't you have to fly to Mexico? Are those asters going to do you? What can I possibly do to help you?

It was a revelation to be there, so much to take note of and marvel at. I wish you could have been there with me, you would have loved it. I arrived as a thick morning mist was beginning to dissipate - the landscape was lightly veiled in white. It's the time of year for spoked wheels upon wheels of spider webs, dripping with diamonds of dew, reminiscent (on their miniaturized scale) of glitteringly lit bridges, the Verrazzano or GW, at night. There was a sculptural seed pod installation, 'mixed media,' cotton, brown bramble, bare twig, papery pod - honestly, sweetheart - I could not have sculpted such a creation myself, and yet there it was, in perfectly showcased perfection, at the edge of a path - for me to see! Wild asters are in bloom, in various shades of lavender. Crows flew overhead, a mass of them, crying noisily - I managed to organize the camera in time to catch the tail end of their momentary manifestation before they too (on far larger wings) flew off. I marched around with my weights, camera tucked in my pocket, but it wasn't much of a workout, stop-and-go, since I felt inspired to take pictures.

I've just sat down after a couple of hours of standing up & ironing, "spring cleaning" for upcoming guests continuing apace, de-dusting as much as I possibly can. D's been redoing the stair runner that goes up to the aerie; the liner had disintegrated so the carpeting (cheerful, high-end striped upholstery fabric actually, obtained for @ $1/pound, and which I laundered today -yikes - the grime, after five years!) was pulling away from the risers which of course is a trip hazard - one that we've been negotiating numerous times daily for a while - but absolutely would not wish to subject 'outsiders' (a/k/a friends, family, dear ones, or perfect strangers) to that hazardous bit of decrepitude.

Anyway, it's all good good good, it's getting cleaned, or fixed, or refurbished. The outside is chaotic, garden a mess, unsightly asphalt driveway, unclipped privets,

ah, but inside it's all pristinely fresh curtains & lovely new soft sheets & a huge bunch of gladiolus in a glass vase set on the side of the hearth

and there's pesto for dinner - that's for us tonight

and I'll make up another pear frangipane tart, tomorrow or the next day, and leave a portion for our guests (no wish to sabotage anyone's diets - but this B&B has high standards in the pastry department)

and that's it really
except that I love you very much, and think of you
and hope all is well with you
I smile to think of you
and hope you are happy
and I imagine that as you read this
that you're smiling too

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