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Hot days, quiet nights
- Details
- Written by: Rod Boyle
- Category: Miscellany
- Hits: 1852
The Stampede has begun to take it's toll, cancellations, slow lunches, evenings.
It would be a relief were it not for the heat. There's air conditioning, but it doesn't help much, at all, it's stand around in a vest and tie and feel your life blood ebbing away.
There's the making of notes, the other staff find me mysterious as I hack away in my journal, elaborating upon brief flashes of inspiration, cutting down inspiration as it ripens and is ready to harvest, there's a lot of catching up to be done...
Bench, again
- Details
- Written by: Rod Boyle
- Category: Miscellany
- Hits: 1775
Because I was too lazy to go for coffee, it was getting late and the view from my bench is just fine.
I feel a bit like Forest Gump just sitting there...
You watch the river, Canada geese circling the islands, the odd lone beaver swimming, the silence punctuated by joggers and odd couples walking and talking quietly amongst themselves.
It's grey, cool, cloudy, occasional stray raindrops splash onto my notebook, smudge the ink, no real threat, just aimless drops.
Sitting, watching, the grey clouds run like a band down the center of the sky, to the east it's all blue, to the west you can see a break low on the horizon.
Sounds of the river, of people passing, traffic.
And now the sun has passed the clouds and for 5, 6 minutes perhaps the sky, the river is lit up, no longer grey but blue and green with white caps on the waves, reflected sunlight, a thousand silvery winged motes hang in the air, the leaves and trees acquire a gem-like coloring, jewel tone shadings of phthalo green, pastel orange-yellow-grey clouds on a cerulean blue sky, it's been an hour on the bench for 5 minutes of perfection, the sun brilliant and low on the horizon, now behind a tree and you can see climbing into the sky the crepuscular rays, and my time is done.
2nd Armchair Gone
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- Written by: Rod Boyle
- Category: Miscellany
- Hits: 1842
And the 2nd armchair is gone, gone the same way as the first which is good as I didn't like to see them separated, not after their having been together so long. I left it on the front step and the lady who purchased the first came and retrieved it.
I thought, briefly, of writing some torrid ancient love letters and hiding them in the stuffing, or a map to some lost familial treasure, but there wasn't enough time, and really, at the price, it wasn't worth the effort. Or a letter congratulating her on her fine financial acumen, congratulating her on the deal she acquired, maybe even a first person letter letting her know how glad the chair was to be reunited with it's more beautiful twin. But again, not enough time, and certainly not at that price.
The important thing is that they're gone, and there's a hole in the living room where they used to be but I think to myself that it's 2 less chairs I'll have to move.
Sheepish Cat
- Details
- Written by: Rod Boyle
- Category: Miscellany
- Hits: 2238
The cat's running across the lawn, mouth bristling with feathers, she's caught a newly fledged robin and I bend down to take it from her, check it to see if it's all right, still alive, the cat looks sheepish as if to try and tell me she found it hurt and was bringing it to me, she looks indifferent to it, the parents have followed along and are squawking from nearby trees.
It appears to be all right and I settle it in my palms, smooth the feathers, it's unable to fly, the cat disinterestedly, innocently watches from the front step.
Now what?
I take the shrine to the beloved Fatima bird feeder and prop it head height in a nearby tree. I settle the fledgling in it, here he (she) should be safe, hopefully the parents can handle the rest. The cat, she's staying in the rest of the day.
By the next morning the robin was gone.
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