2011-04-10 - 8:31 a.m.
the roots that sleep beneath my feet/and hold the earth in place
so many things were in bloom at swift creek - crested iris, may apples, foamflower, bloodroot, rue anemone. we turned cover and found a redback salamander guarding a clutch of eggs. these north-facing bluffs feel like home to me - a refugium to the northeast, this forest, that steel-gray sky.
later, my particular friend and i walked around the lake. i don't remember what we talked about, but i always like talking to him.
at night, my husband and i drove through a downpour for barbecue takeout. i don't eat meat, but i love the vegetables that come on the side. we ate our meal in the car, watching lightning shatter the sky.
* * *
still no sign of my missing kitty. i adopted him when he was a sick and tiny kitten and i was an undergrad still living in the dorms. he grew so big and was such a comfort to me when i was sick and scared. just last week, he chirped and purred and bumped his head into my leg, asking for petting. it's hard to believe he's still gone, might not be coming back.
* * *
reading: seven plays of the modern theater. in high school, i discovered the apophatic tradition stumbling backward into beckett, and i won a national elocution award in french, reciting a passage from ionesco.
listening to: liz story, solid colours. it suits the weather and my mood.
working on: schoolwork. it's amazing, how many things i've known and forgotten.
in the garden: dutch iris and spanish bluebells.