We would climb the highest dune,
from there to gaze and come down:
the ocean was performing;
we contributed our climb.
Waves leapfrogged and came
straight out of the storm.
What should our gaze mean?
Kit waited for me to decide.
Standing on such a hill,
what would you tell your child?
That was an absolute vista.
Those waves raced far, and cold.
“How far could you swim, Daddy,
in such a storm?”
“As far as was needed,” I said,
and as I talked, I swam.
(With Kit, Age 7, at the Beach by william stafford)
The afternoon I wrote to you about the rooster and his hens we came back to the ranch to find them gone–the little white hens almost without a trace–and piles of rooster’s green and bronze and black feathers scattered everywhere. By searching carefully I found four white feathers a short distance from the house. The coyotes had come–at least four of them I think because otherwise the dogs could have protected rooster and his hens. Coyotes waste nothing and so it is as if the white hens were never here; the rooster, on the other hand, was always a strange creature. A number of times I would be talking to Denny and would feel as if we were not alone; when I looked out the open window I’d find the rooster listening outside like a being out of some Haitian voodoo story. Now when the wind blows I find feathers, every time thinking that surely now I am seeing them for the last time, but finding them again and again. What is remarkable though are the colors of the feathers, which remain undimmed, and the texture of the feathers, which is as glossy as if they had only just fallen from him; and all this after weeks of the feathers blowing around the ground in dust and rain.
recipe for rose perfume:
Harvest 10 to 15 roses. Go into your garden (or garden center) and select the most fragrant roses. Typically you want to choose the roses that are opening up, but not yet in complete bloom. Check for insect or other damage to the petals, and choose only perfect roses.
River gonna take me, sing me sweet and sleepy
Sing me sweet and sleepy all the way back home
It’s a far gone lullaby sung many years ago
Mama, Mama, many worlds I’ve come since I first left home
Going home, going home
By the waterside I will rest my bones
Listen to the river sing sweet songs
To rock my soul
Going to plant a weeping willow
On the bank’s green edge it will grow, grow, grow