Poem for Monday and Redmond Goslings

The Year Before I Left For Mars 

By Margaret Rhee 

That night the moon’s song was

Cupped by the edge of the plane’s hum.

The beginning soundtrack for our last meeting.

Throughout it all, your breathing slighted the mourning.

We lay, as the loose sand soon hooked

Into the concave of our backs. The ocean waves

Undulating, marking between us, my fast breath.

There is another line here, but I’m not sure

Where to locate it. I could have

Looked at the moon, asked for forgiveness,

But like you, I searched for meteors instead.

You taught me what they look like,

By verbal description, by whispers, and pointing but

Characteristically, I kept missing them.

Because I’m not so good with language,

Nor instructions, and saying goodbye

Where the ground, sea, and sky meet and depart.

Listen: I’m clumsy with my hands and feet.

I also don’t know how to clean a microwave.

And I’m not sure what to say to you anymore.

But that night, before I left, I learned on my own,

Without telling you: This is how you find meteors.

You have to take in the entire dark sky, (like viewing a landscape painting or

A movie screen), but let the frame blanket over our bodies until nothing is left.

Watch carefully, because meteors

Disappear in a glimpse, into the slender cock of your neck,

In my short eyelash flutter.

One by one, then another.

By the end, we are greedy.

We stop counting

As we clasp our hands,

Gulp in the disappearing us, then

Suffocated, strayed.

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My Monday was mostly about chores and some photo work, all of which got done except folding the laundry -- it always takes two cycles through the dryer here no matter what the settings or fabric weights. Since it was a lovely day, we also walked to Idylwood, where there were a decent number of people at the beach, and we spotted at least four turtles off the dock plus some ducklings. 

We chose the Orioles vs the Cardinals over the Mariners vs the Yankees, though the latter ended up being better for the Os because the Mariners won with a late surge while the Orioles lost. In the evening we watched Knuckles because older son had told us about the Shabbat dinner/Hava Nagila fight scene and the Michael Bolton low budget rock opera! Here are our local geese and goslings:

Greetings from Around Green Lake

We had gorgeous weather return on Sunday, 60s and partly cloudy with periods of intense sunlight. Our morning was pretty quiet -- we did computer stuff while watching the Orioles beat the Mariners -- then we ate lunch, and we were about to go to Redmond Town Center for Pokemon Community Day when Daniel messaged to say he and Cahaya had had brunch at a diner and were taking their dogs to different parks because Theo was causing some trouble. So we met Daniel and walked around Green Lake with him and Thandi, seeing ducks, turtles, goslings, and many other dogs, before a quick stop at the PCC and his house.

 

I spent a little while evolving Bounsweet into Tsareena with High Jump Kick while watching baseball; we ate some of the lebneh we got at the PCC with hummus and Persian chick'n for dinner; then we watched The Great Wall because Paul wanted to see it and thought it had dragons. In fact, it has all the white savior problems I'd been warned about and there are no dragons, just something akin to wargs, so there are just as many warg battles as in The Hobbit movies, and you know how I feel about those. Now we're watching Interview with the Vampire, which is finally in Paris and sumptuous and dark and creepily delightful.

Greetings from Around Redmond

We had drizzle on and off on Saturday but we still had a lovely day. Adam and Haley wanted to go climbing, so we had lunch with them at Crossroads Bellevue, looked at clothes in the Indian wedding store (I have been invited to wear Indian formalwear to Haley's sister Solveig's wedding in December, but I suspect I am going to pick something I can also wear to one of Daniel's wedding events next year), then we took Pepper to Marymoor for a walk while they went to the climbing gym. 

After the Orioles had been defeated by the Mariners, which we watched when we took Pepper back home to warm up, we met Adam and Haley in Redmond Town Center, where we snacked at Kitanda -- not really hungry enough after sharing pho and Indian food for lunch -- and sent them off with Pepper. We just finished watching Damsel, which I had heard wasn't great, and it was quite dark and a bit predictable, but it had lots of girl power and a non-wicked stepmother, so I enjoyed it.

Poem for Friday and Marymoor Park

The Gray Heron 

By Galway Kinnell 

It held its head still

while its body and green

legs wobbled in wide arcs

from side to side. When

it stalked out of sight,

I went after it, but all

I could find where I was

expecting to see the bird

was a three-foot-long lizard

in ill-fitting skin

and with linear mouth

expressive of the even temper

of the mineral kingdom.

It stopped and tilted its head,

which was much like

a fieldstone with an eye

in it, which was watching me

to see if I would go

or change into something else. 

-------- 

Spring is so beautiful here, and Friday was no exception. We had a fairly quiet morning, then after lunch we went to Marymoor Park, where we met several friendly dogs, watched the great blue herons feed their babies, and walked along the river, where we saw more birds and the beaver dam. Back behind the apartment, we saw several of the ducklings, a fishing heron, and a family of eagles -- adults and juveniles -- diving over the water.

 

The Orioles beat the Mariners, which is fine with me. We saw the end before dinner, after which we watched this week's Doctor Who with Cheryl  -- it reminded me of Nine and Rose, which I mean in the best way, though the ending felt rushed and too light for the tragedy Splice just had. Now we're watching Bridgerton, which is lovely to look at, gorgeous flowers and jewels and wonderful music, and utter fluff otherwise!

Poem for Thursday and Glass Shop

The Glass-Blower 

By Jan Struther 

By the red furnace stands

   Apollo mute,

Holding in upraised hands

   His iron flute.

Slowly from back and brow

   The bright sweat drips;

He sets the clarion now

   Light to his lips,

And ever, as he blows,

   Without a sound

His molten music flows,

   Golden and round.

Never from herald's breath

   In brazen horn,

Telling of strife and death

   Or of peace new-born;

From silver clarinet

   By fingers small

To lips of ruby set

   In raftered hall;

From jilted shepherd's reed

   Plaintively proving

How he in very deed

   Must die of loving–

Never from all these came

   A music sweeter

Than this bright sphere of flame

With neither sound nor name,

   Cadence nor metre,

That steadily, as he blows

   On his iron flute,

Trembles and swells and glows,

Gold-amber, amber-rose,

   In melody mute.

-------- 

Thursday was nice and cool, overcast without rain, lots of fluff from the cottonwood trees blowing everywhere. I had a bunch of stuff to get done in the morning, which I did while watching the Yankees beat the Twins, then after lunch we drove to Issaquah to pick up the glass pumpkins we made last week at Art By Fire. The traffic was terrible (construction on Lake Sammamish Boulevard) but we managed to stop in REI to pick up a Northwest Forest Pass and in Fortunato Chocolate for awesome vegan mallomars and chocolate dipped macaroons!

 

I talked to my usual Thursday night chat group about various new entertainment and political developments, then we watched two seasons (possibly series) finales: Franklin, which was finally decent to Adams and gave us the Founding Fathers we deserve, and Sugar, which had a twist I really disliked (not The Big Twist, which was interesting; this was a cliched genre thing that made me roll my eyes). Now we're watching Hacks, which has been just so satisfying this season; Deborah and Ava as allies is such a joy and I want more!

Poem for Wednesday and Alki Tidepools

I Wake and Feel the Fell of Dark, Not Day 

By Gerard Manley Hopkins 

I wake and feel the fell of dark, not day.

What hours, O what black hours we have spent

This night! what sights you, heart, saw; ways you went!

And more must, in yet longer light's delay.

   With witness I speak this. But where I say

Hours I mean years, mean life. And my lament

Is cries countless, cries like dead letters sent

To dearest him that lives alas! away.

   I am gall, I am heartburn. God's most deep decree

Bitter would have me taste: my taste was me;

Bones built in me, flesh filled, blood brimmed the curse.

   Selfyeast of spirit a dull dough sours. I see

The lost are like this, and their scourge to be

As I am mine, their sweating selves; but worse.

-------- 

I spent much of Wednesday on Google Meet, first with my high school friends, though that started late because one of the updates either my phone or computer got last week switched my Google Meet camera settings to use the phone as the default and I had to figure out how to turn that off so I could use my laptop's built-in webcam. We got Adam and Haley to come say hi since Hildy and I were on the call, and Kay's son came on to chat later with me, so that was a lot of fun. Then later I watched the last two episodes of Hawkeye with Kristen, which was also a lot of fun! 

We took an afternoon walk to the park, where lots of people were at the beach enjoying the gorgeous weather, and out on the dock, where the goslings were hiding but a couple of families of ducklings were hanging out in the reeds. We watched the Masked Singer semifinals; I would have kept the Clock and cut the Gumball, but I think Goldfish should win either way. Now we're watching Dark Matter, which is great so far; I'm not sure the sci-fi makes sense, but this is really a show about characters and relationships, particularly regrets. Things we saw in and around Alki tidepools:

Poem for Tuesday and Visiting Dogs

The Dogs at Live Oak Beach, Santa Cruz 

By Alicia Ostriker 

As if there could be a world

Of absolute innocence

In which we forget ourselves

The owners throw sticks

And half-bald tennis balls

Toward the surf

And the happy dogs leap after them

As if catapulted—

Black dogs, tan dogs,

Tubes of glorious muscle—

Pursuing pleasure

More than obedience

They race, skid to a halt in the wet sand,

Sometimes they'll plunge straight into

The foaming breakers

Like diving birds, letting the green turbulence

Toss them, until they snap and sink

Teeth into floating wood

Then bound back to their owners

Shining wet, with passionate speed

For nothing,

For absolutely nothing but joy.

-------- 

Tuesday was another gorgeous day, sunny and not too hot. I did a bunch of chores in the morning, had hummus and pita for lunch, then we walked to the park and out on the dock, where we found yet another family of geese and goslings along with at least two of the ducks with ducklings. I love the lake this time of year especially! My Voyager group watched "The Haunting of Deck Twelve" -- which, while not good, isn't even close to the worst episode of the sixth season. 

Our evening viewing has been two movies: the excellent American Fiction, which has superlative performances, a script perfectly balanced between humor and pathos, and really creative, self-aware filmmaking, and the pretty-bad-yet-not-as-bad-as-its-reviews Madame Web, which has mediocre performances, a ridiculous script, and too much pandering to the male gaze despite a story focusing on four female characters, but I enjoyed it anyway. Mother's Day dogs:

Poem for Monday and Art by Fire

Glassblower 

By David Butler 

It is as though an incandescent swarm

has clustered, on a spindle of his breath,

to fabricate a hive

in the hot globe of amber. 

The air is given hands,

cupping the molten bubble thrown out

by his steady lung, crafting

the dull red sun until it sets,

like a premonition of Winter,

into the fragile geometry of glass.

-------- 

My Monday was pretty quiet -- laundry, a trip to the parcel locker to pick up packages, reconstructing a pair of earrings to go with a necklace -- before walking to the park in the afternoon, where we saw some ducks, some herons, and our dog friend Tucker and his owner Shelley. Then we walked out on the dock and saw the eagles, more herons (or possibly the same ones flew north), and a new family of geese and goslings, plus many ducklings and their parents. 

We saw most of the Orioles game, which was going well (two Adley home runs) until the bullpen got involved and they lost in extra innings. Then we watched the Mariners win around dinner. Now we're watching Eileen, which someone posted was like evil Carol, which so far seems fair -- I think it's going to have a worse ending because everyone's lives are so much worse, but the women are mesmerizing. Here at last are glassblowing pics from Art By Fire from Friday: