Adirondack Sunrise May 10

Sky of steel grey aluminum overcast.
A lone phoebe calls its name,
calmly, but repeatedly:
"Phoebe. . . Phoebe. . . Phoebe. . . "
"Phoebe. . . Phoebe. . . Phoebe. . . "
A wren twitters in a moment's silent pause.
A distant crow calls once, a mourning dove hoots halfheartedly.
Neighbor's rooster crows muffledly,
shut inside its little barn.
At last the sun illuminates the horizon,
turning the slate-like sky into opalescent backlit tiffany
in illustrious myriad hues of
orange, yellow, pink & blue.

Starlings

The lawn is green
on shades of brown
Starlings, like rats,
swarm all around.
They fight for bits
of straw & hay
Then, frantically,
they fly away
to build their nests
where'er they please --
in eaves and soffits,
holes in trees.

If only they had
songs to sing.
I do not care
for rats with wings.

Aborigines & the Early Explorers in Australia

"The incompetence of the early explorers was a matter of abiding fascination for the Aborigines, who often came to watch. "Our perplexities afforded them an inexhaustible fund of merriment and derision," wrote one chronicler glumly."

In a Sunburned Country by Bill Bryson

737-800 Eastbound

737-800, eastbound for Logan
long week, colleagues & friends in Chicago.
Mystery & intrigue waiting at the gate.
A world of pretty women,
a myriad of different looks,
pretty inside or pretty out.

Meanwhile, it's two free drinks here in comfy business class
on this brand new ATA 737 --
Large leather reclining seats with footrests, free headsets.
No DirecTV like JetBlue but I could go for this route again, just +$30.

39,000 feet, over Albany & into Boston.
Smooth sailing.
We'll land @ six, two hour layover.

Reviewing some of the candids I took @ the gate
I realize that I do not view "live" faces & people as they appear on film.
My judgement is clouded by an ability to see a beauty within,
& I suppose an inability to see what is in front of me.
How will I ever find that
one true, everlasting love ?
That one who is all things to me & to whom I am all things?
Ah, demon, thy name is rum!

How does one say "I am sorry"
for the wreckage left behind?
How does one move ahead
when you can't make up your mind?

Initial descent, on the ground about 5:30,
likely to the gate early.
Just means more time to kill before I catch my little commuter to SLK.

Ah, Boston
feels like home.
No need to parade out the "ahs"(r's)
no need to ask for whole bellies
when you ordah fried clams.
Sounds like home around heya.

Cleared security, no issues.
Hanging out at a little side alley bar.
Rum & coke,
and why is everybody staring at me?
Ain't no pretty ladies,
that's for sure!

Last leg. Finally!
Continental Beechcraft 1900D.
Five passengers, two crew.
Woman pilot.
If I were a pilot, I'd rather fly commuters,
at least in good weather.

Tell me why . . .

• television stations all run commercials at the same times?
• it matters more who you remind someone of then who you are?
• reputations are worthless - some peon is always there to challenge it.
  

Chicago, 6:15 AM

The city roars & rumbles --
the individual sounds of cars, trains, and rooftop environmental conditioners merge into a constant sound ever changing pitch & timbre, like the cracking of ice on a frozen pond, 10,000 people humming tunelessly, a jumbo jet warming its engines on the tarmack, a distant tornado, an orchestra tuning spasmodically, and 100 other unidentifiable sounds all rolled into one long sustain.

737 Westbound

4/26/05 9:30 am
Second leg, big 737-800, cruising @ 40,000 feet. Reflecting on being alone, invisible, not worth a second glance out here in the world: just an out of shape, slightly tubby, not so handsome, out of place male.
And then I think: I could be alone & alone could be good.

So long as I live it and don't fill it with time wasters.

wetland in spring

Ocher and umber
wetland in spring
dampened & darkened by rain.
Cattails and sedges
last year's growth
sentinels of greening again.

We got out of the car

"We got out of the car. Dear God, I remember thinking, how beautiful the world is! My heart was pounding, my palms were sweating, my eyes were watering behind my sunglasses, but I felt like Lazarus emerging from the tomb after three days of darkness, light bursting through the linen wrappings over his eyes. Most of humanity, I thought, sleep-walked through life, brains muddled by petty concerns, daydreams, the numbing mediocrities of the day-to-day. Most of us, if not already in the tomb, waver on the threshold, afraid to step into the light, afraid we might actually prefer being half-dead to fully alive."

[Confessions of a Tax Collector: One Man's Tour of Duty Inside the IRS by Richard Yancey]

Afternoon Nap

"A band of golden afternoon sunlight streamed across the foot of the bed, stretched itself upon the floor, and crawled up the pale blue wall on the far side of the room. In the gloaming, I had the sense of time racing toward some inescapable conclusion, to a reckoning I had not foreseen. The why no longer mattered. I had leapt into the river at the point of its swiftest current, and had been swept away. I wanted to reach the end; I wanted to see where the river took me."

[Confessions of a Tax Collector: One Man's Tour of Duty Inside the IRS by Richard Yancey]

Cedar Eden Pre-dawn

The morning sky,
deepest cerulean & indigo.
Trees black silhouettes
against predawn glow.

Imperceptively at first,
the day grows brighter,
waking a melodious chorus of birdsongs.

Sliver Moon

Sliver moon,
piercing crystal sky,
sliced by jagged branches.

Ursa major overhead,
bright diamonds in bed of coal.
Silent woods open to the sky.