Weather cooler and shod in proper footwear, edging slowly onto newly paved village lane and managing better than the first time out. Many quick hellos, a community breakfast on picnic tables trapping legs. Coffee in Styrofoam while exiting, an excuse to sit down. Squirrels thinking ,lost cause. Remainder a limping walk and visit with brindle coloured boxer pup, licking maple syrup from my hand. Second day out, slightly longer distance, meal included. Calendar circled, journal noted, goal forming.
Tag Archives: poetry
Made hot milk tea today and I kind of liked it. Made it twice. Making it again, right now. It just seemed to be that type of day. Cool enough to walk. Warm enough still to wander around a closing greenhouse. Long enough to do some never ending found laundry left by a flown the coop son. Time for a historical bibliography to be read fully in parts and skimmed in detail. A visit for coffee next door and a visit in the lane to talk about the kids. Emails checked for news pertinent, personal, comic and sad. Snail mail rerouted returned yet again, rerouted once more. Addressed wrong. Milk tea however, nice, even twice, perhaps thrice.
Anticipating the storms to arrive eventually , doors still closed to the heat, curtains backing out the glare ,measures taken and fans directed. Cooled, refreshed , dressed to remain indoors in a waiting rest. Rumbling storms arrive and darken outlines of houses, trees and withered ferns. Too late to bring in cushions on the porch, so coffee brewed for blackout. Wind, rain, lightning, thunder combine repeatedly through the late day and create an exhausted night. Sirens heard with each new surge, subsiding before a chance to recover and no one knows what has gone so terribly wrong except the ones who have to go into the wild night. Cat behind curtain, frightened search for duvet ,instinctively moving.
Night, draws in now. Darkness has a coolness and a quiet that feels like autumn is settling around the village. Earlier, an emergency vehicle sounded a siren briefly but the night made the interruption become silent, the panic is elsewhere. Before that, at suppertime the nearby park was filled with the chatter and laughter of an end of season barbeque attracting all the locals . The people ate their church dinner in near dusk, saying to each other, all they had to say.Night lingers longer now, soft lights are sometimes left on, forgotten by the late to bed as they sleep in front of televisions turned low. The ones who stay up to read, finally exhaust themselves by early dawn and stumble to their rest. Writers forage for seeds fallen from the husk of the day. An old cat takes the very best chair and nestles into the woolen shawl left on the side, curled into her paws, She claims the late, dark softness, rightfully.