Tacos with plenty of sour cream

 At Aunt Kim's house for a very delicious meal.
A day filled with long walks and other activities.

ripe blackberries
just one for each grandchild
along the trail
                       jhh


It's been a long day . . .

Logan Walks

Grandkids went up to visit Aunt Kim by the road. Logan decided to come back home and just started and Kim phoned to tell us to meet him. He won't be three until October, but just started down the private lane between us. I think he was a little relieved when he saw me. I had fun taking pictures as he came.

Here he is in the lower left corner, a speck on the road.

See him up there by the tree?? Coming along.

And we finish with another bit from the Road-side Dog, by Czeslaw Milosz. (See previous posts if you don't know this dog.)

"PURSUING A GOAL

In order to accomplish something, one must dedicate oneself to it totally, so much that our fellow men cannot even imagine such an exclusivity. And that does nor mean at all the amount of time consumed. There are also the innumerable emotional subterfuges practiced against oneself, slow transformations of personality, as if one supreme goal, beyond one's will and knowledge, pulled in a single direction and organized destiny."

I thiink this quite suits Logan's Walk! 

Next door they are setting off fireworks at a party, and the sky is lighting up. Logan didn't wake up and his big sisters ran out on the porch and enjoyed the thrills. It didn't go on very long and I hope Luella is OK

Sleep well and dream of sparks in the sky!.

Today at the Oden Fish Hatchery

My granddaughter is taking videos of the fish in the stream-viewing chamber. I loved the light-through-the-water in this place. The kids really enjoyed this no-fee interpretive center, with the stream-side trails, things to see and opportunity to feed the fish.

Tonight's gift is again from Road-Side Dog, by Czeslaw Milosz from page 62.

A GOAL

On one side there is luminosity, trust, faith, the beauty of the earth, on the other side darkness, doubt, unbelief, the cruelty of the earth, the capacity of people to do evil. When I write, the first side is true, when I do not write, the second is. Thus, I have to write, to save myself from disintegration. Not much philosophy in this statement, but at least it has been verified by experience.

This gives those of is who write another take on the subject, Good NIght!

Grandson at Camp Petosega

As evening shaded into night and the Northern Michigan sun meant we could play and play and play. And now we are home and showered to prevent the dread swimmer's itch! And going to bed including this grandmother.

And this is my granddaughter running to the sunset.

Good night.

Gardens at Lavender Hill Farm

Isn't this pretty??? I had a lovely time there, at Lavender Hill Farm.
Tonight I just have time for another section of Roadside Dog, the wonderful book by Nobel Laureate Czeslaw Milosz, which I describe in this recent post.

YOU DON'T KNOW

"You have no idea what is going on.in the heads of people who walk by you, Their ignorance is hard to imagine and it can be discovered only by accident. This does not mean you are wise and they are stupid; simply that everyone garners information up to a certain level only, and is unable to reach higher. Space is limited, and they may be unaware of what is happening in the next street. Also time is limited, and events, which for you happened yesterday, for them are sunken in the fog of an indefinite past. Thus TV, print can transform and alter as they please everything that is and has been. We should wonder not at the power of propaganda but at the modest amount of knowledge that somehow gets through."

Czeslaw Milosz, Road-side Dog, page 91.

This is a very interesting passage to think about. I am still thinking about it. Sleep well.

Grandchild at the center

Intensive four grandchild family probably means shortish, or even weird posts for the rest of the month. This was the first full day! Pretty great; we walked up to see their aunt's sheep and goats.

Here is another poem from Darkness Sticks to Everything, by Tom Hennen, Page 136.

Outside Hay Pile 1956

Dark summer nights lead into autumn

And the frost that floated about me.

Cold air from the shadows flower over  me

Onto the sheepskin coat I wore

That smelled of the barn and tractor oil.

On my back in the hay pile I watched the Milky Way

Turning through the far-off dusk

Like a country road,

Stars billowing thick as dust clouds

Behind a pickup truck.

If someone were to ask where the road leads,

Who would dare answer?

When the big dog pushed his head into my face

I held onto his fur with both hands

To keep from falling into the sky.

.

Falafels inside

This is the very cute little place where we had falafel gyros tonight. Lovely fresh sliced cucumbers and tomatoes with a yoghurt sauce inside with the falafels. Do you make one falafel plural by adding an "s?" I could easily have eaten two gyros, but the one was very satisfying, since I was tired and hungry and since falafels are a favorite food of mine, and one I usually don't have here in Northern Michigan.

Grandchildren, four of them, are due to arrive after midnight, at the end of a truly marathon drive from Northern California, with their parents taking turns at the wheel. I've just been on the phone with the oldest one; she told me that the moon was up and it was pink! By the time I saw it, it was already dark here. But I have seen that pink moon that catches the tail end of the sunset.I dearly love these children, three girls with a boy as  a finishing touch.

I just found out about another poet. This one has been flying quietly under the radar and publishing without making a big splash, while doing other things, like working at a wildlife refuge. The book is called Darkness Sticks to Everything by Tom Hennen, It's from the splendid Copper Canyon Press this very year, 2013. The poems are rooted in the natural world, which is my preference, really. Many of the poems are short, like this one from page 45.

After a Long Trip

The river is going to the Gulf of Mexico.
The moon on the top of the water
Doesn't move.
It's not interested in a
Trip to New Orleans.
It's light is already tired from traveling
250,000 miles
To shine on some trees.

or this one, on page 48,

Independent Existence

A small pond comes out of the hillside.
On its surface
Hangs a frog imitating moss
A willow leaf
Drops on the water
And is immediately still.
Autumn air penetrates the ground.
Wind hums endlessly
To the tangled grass.
When things happen here
There is no urge to put them on TV.

* * *

These small poems seem to like having each line begin with a capital letter. I like it, too.
It is something I have avoided in the past. Now I plan to try it. Good night.