Having been reduced to only decorative usefulness, these vehicles form a blue still life outside the barbecue restaurant (in Plumas County) that has wooden paneling and red bandanna curtains. In a blog about memory, I have forgotten this restaurant's name. We take our grandchildren there for chicken strips and french fries.
I like to think about such a tractor when it was new--how it represented getting ahead to the new owner. Where, when? And whatever did she carry in that wicker bicycle basket?
"...Shri Krishnagi, who was giving his last words and then retiring into a vow of lifelong silence. Shri Krishnagi who was of the long-haired, long-bearded variety, spoke for almost an hour on "Silence" and then the musicians serenaded him (he actually entered the vow at 5 a.m. the following morning.)"
from Gary Snyder's Passage to India, page 102.
I suppose I should/could take this more seriously: a lifelong vow of silence is certainly a tough one! But the thought of someone speaking for an hour on "Silence" (and then having music!) strikes me as terribly (cough, choke!) funny. I am enjoying Joanne Kyger's book on this trip, but I am still in the first half, when they were in Japan and haven't gotten to India yet. They had to get married right off the boat due to the rules of the place where Gary went to study Zen. It was a rushed affair, which made her nervous. So far, the book is larded with little feminist gems that I adore! I'll try to mark some to give you tomorrow. More and more I almost feel that I AM a library! This rummaging about and following whimsical (and not so whimsical) connections is what I must have been born for! Good night!
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