Walking Cross-Town. Under the Rainbow.

rainbow-child-country-boy-running

50° F, mid-January. Shameful, I know, but if this is global warming, fill me up, give me more, take me Home to Spring.

I wait for the light to turn and look up squinting, the Sun beams warm the bones, the soul.

I cross Madison and head up 48th.

The City that never sleeps is in peripatetic flight – cabs zigzagging, buses spewing exhaust, delivery trucks unloading the day’s provisions, couriers on bikes, commuters with one foot on gas, one hand on horn, street sweepers with rotating brushes raising dust, garbage trucks with their putrid stench, shopkeepers lifting their steel grates, street vendors setting out their apples, bananas and bagels – – and thoughts.

Walking these same concrete streets in a New Year. No cake, no candles, no party hats at 10 years. Here walks an off-center screw, never quite center, never just right – and yet the hand re-grips, shredding those fine threads, tightening and tightening cross-thread. Must find Proof. [Read more…]

Saturday Morning. Call it Rest.

azure-butterfly-hand

 

Call it Rest. I sit on one of the branches. My idleness suits me. I am content. I have built my house. The blue butterflies, called azures, twinkle up from the secret place where they have been waiting. In their small blue dresses they float among the branches, they come close to me, one rests for a moment on my wrist. They do not recognize me as anything very different from this enfoldment of leaves, this wind-roarer, this wooden palace lying down, now, upon the earth, like anything heavy, and happy, and full of sunlight, and half asleep.

~ Mary Oliver, from “Building The House” in Upstream: Selected Essays

 


Photo: Shmoo Shots with A Visit from the Spirit of a Lost Friend. “Summer Azure butterfly which landed on my left wrist and stayed and stayed and stayed while I balanced the camera and took photos with my right hand.”

T.G.I.F.: Snow Day!

Do NOT quit before the finish…


Thank you Susan

It’s been a long day! (Hit it Moji! Hit it!)

No one’s going to cry for me if you don’t…
If you’ve got a minute,
if you’ve got a space in your heart
Keep my memory
Don’t let me fall behind, no, no, don’t let me fall behind…


Notes:

 

Guess.What.Day.It.Is?

camel-2-liwa-desert-sand-dunes-abu-dhabi


Notes:

  • Men and camels, lower right, are dwarfed by the sand dunes in the Liwa desert about 150 miles west of the Gulf emirate of Abu Dhabi. (Karim Sahib, Agency France-Presse: wsj.com Photos of the Day January 6, 2017)
  • Background on Caleb/Wednesday/Hump Day Posts and Geico’s original commercial: Let’s Hit it Again

Truth

chris_rock_2016

“You know, some people say life is short and that you could get hit by a bus at any moment and that you have to live each day like it’s your last. Bullshit. Life is long. You’re probably not gonna get hit by a bus. And you’re gonna have to live with the choices you make for the next fifty years.”

~ Chris Rock, as Richard Cooper in the movie “I Think I Love My Wife

 


Portrait of Chris Rock: Trending Topics

This morning I’m thinking of recounting mine

heart

I heard on the radio that
we creatures have about a billion and a half heartbeats to use.
Voles and birds use theirs fast…
while whales and elephants are slower.
This morning I’m thinking of
recounting mine to see exactly where I am…

~ Jim Harrison, from “Sunday Discordancies” in In Search of Small Gods


Photo: Cover of Pijn via amespeciale

Monday Morning Wake-Up Call (Bill Withers, A Whole Person)

“My father was this coal miner, but he was always interested in reading. Never got a chance to go to school. But he read. And, you know, dignity was very important to him. The first thing that I had to resolve in my life and the one thing that was very important to me, I had to sort this out: ‘Can I go into this thing and avoid the minstrel-ness of it?’ This is a business. And you got some cold pimps that will mail you out until you die in your grave. You got as many thieves in this stuff… There’s a life you have to run. And you do the best you can. And hopefully, as a human being, you improve. I’m 70-years-old. I’m not some kind of mindless troubadour. You know? I have an intellect I have to manage, I have some thoughts I have to manage, I have a life I have to maintain. I want to know where my stuff is. You know? I want to know who I am. I don’t want to be some simple-minded blues boy. You can bleep this out: ‘Kiss my ass with that shit.’ So I’m doing the best I can. To grow and improve my lineage as a species. So I got some responsibilities that require that I be available. I never had the benefit of a formal education, but I’ve always wanted to better myself. I can speak the language. I can write it, make it rhyme for you, if you want to. You know what I mean? Somebody said, “Education is the sum total of what you know.” That’s everything from tying your shoe to whether you can do quadratic equations or not. So, I’m not saying this should be a template for everybody, but that’s just the kind of person that makes sense for me to be. Hopefully the music that I made is useful to somebody. I mean, I get nice letters from people that say, ‘Hey man, my grandmother died, and the song helped me.’ I like that kind of stuff. As a result, it was important to me, as best I could, to try to wind up with a life that had some stability and some dignity in it… I made some choices earlier… that I wanted to be a whole person. Not just this entertainer thing. It doesn’t fill up my plate. I love it — who wouldn’t like it? But it doesn’t fill up my plate.”

Bill Withers, on why he walked away from the music business in 1985 in an Interview on The Sound of Young America


Notes:

Running. Grounded by Stillness.

bird-mirror-introspection

15° F, feels like 5° F. Winter.

Gazing out the window with Haight: “How is it that the snow amplifies the silence…

Fox, with its long bushy tail, glances right furtively, tip toes through the snow and disappears.

Finches flutter to the feeders, feed, then flit away. Seeds darken the fresh snow below.

A shovel scrapes a driveway down the street, scarring the silence of the morning. Plows awaken in the distance, cold steel to asphalt, teeth on tin foil.

Oil heat courses through the veins of the house, warming. (Families, less than 50 miles away in the boroughs, huddle to warm, thermostats turned down, working to make budget.) [Read more…]

Dark to dawn, with long warm breaths (60 sec)

Heartwarming moment with man rescuing sparrow after its wet feet froze onto a water tank pipe. The footage was shot in Idaho, USA, shows the man pressing his palm against the bird’s feet to free it from the ice before blowing on them.

“While feeding my horses on New Year’s morning I noticed a solitary sparrow perched upon the steel fence near the water tank. The tank is heated to keep it from freezing. It is not uncommon for birds to drink from the heated tank. Apparently this unfortunate bird had gotten its feet wet and, while making its exit, had become frozen to the fence in the prevailing near zero Idaho temperatures. First, I attempted to warm the feet of the frightened bird by pressing my palm against both the fence and the birds feet, while also gently restraining the bird’s flapping wings. It then seemed that warming the birds feet with my warm breath would bring quicker success. Gentle sideways motion with my thumb brought freedom for the frightened bird and a smile of satisfaction to my face… a delightful way to start a new year.” (Source: Newsflare.com)


Notes:

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