. Spinning .

This is the “test” post I was trying to put up. The image is messed up since it went through many paths to get from program to program, computer to computer, to end up here. Interesting…a path for a path.

The bush beside my door is squeaking–maybe baby cardinals I think.  I picture them all snuggled in the warmth, awaiting the week when they will fly away.  Wrapped in my nest of robe I want to shake it free as well, but have to wait to fly like they.  Naked, soar to the sky and leave the nest behind.

Sat on the back step this morning watching a Red-tailed Hawk watching me. I tried to think my way inside his head, wondering where I’d fly if I could transfer myself, my soul, into his feathers.

He sat there on the bending birch thinking his way into my head.  Fill the feeder, he was saying; bait the trap.

Rainwashed sky, clean and clear as background for the budding spring.  How long before we paint it red again?

Because I know, once "Still Life" is delivered, my history paper must be history or it will  not be finished.  Nothing has been such a tedious job as this particular essay on "Goodbye To All That."  The book was tedious, the questions raised not easily answered, and I’ve seriously considered taking a zero on this one.  I’m nearly done, but don’t feel happy with it.  We do have until next week to turn it in, but with a 10-page essay exam to do in that time as well, I want this one out of my head, out of my home.  We will discuss the book in class tonight, but I will most likely hand it in at the beginning of class to eliminate any temptation to work more on it. 

In the meantime, I did get in my own copy of "Silent Hill II" just because I did get the urge to finish it, and am awaiting also another copy of "Blood Meridian" because I foolishly lent it out to someone who will most likely never return it.  and the last item expected is a how-to manual on Adobe Illustrator.  Looks like some fun times ahead.

That is, if I can ever rid myself of this dreadful book.

Sudden bursts of energy, as if semester’s end were a beginning and it’s no more than a step along the way.  So why?

Ah yes, the deadline of it all.

Watching PBS, Strange Days on Planet Earth.  Learning about what’s happening by studying the frogs.  A male leopard frog found with eggs in his testes.  More anomalies.  Although I am not crazy about things that leap, it brings strong memories of how very much I wanted to be an archaeologist when I was young.  Or something that included field research work like that.

And a bad, more recent memory.  The slaughter of millions of tree frog tadpoles in my swimming pool one summer.

May day grey day, buds swelling green and lilacs lavendar.  No competition from a blue, blue sky as streaks of spring are painted on the earth.

Good.  Some poetics, some sense of imagery is coming back to me.