By Helen Santmyer
Lovers of beauty laugh at this grey town,
Where dust lies thick on ragged curb-side trees,
And compass-needle streets lead up and down
And lose themselves in empty prairie seas.
Here is no winding scented lane, no hill
Crowned with a steepled church, no garden wall
Of old grey stone where lilacs bloom, and fill
The air with fragrance when the May rains fall.
But here is the unsoftened majesty
Of the wide earth where all the wide streets end,
And from the dusty corner one may see
The full moon rise, and flaming sun descend.
The long main street, whence farmers’ teams go forth,
Lies like an old sea road, star-pointed north.
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The temperature dropped nearly 20 degrees on Monday so it was a lovely cool fall day, and apparently the neighborhood animals don't mind because we saw three bunnies and two deer in the evening while we were walking around the block. Otherwise it was an uneventful day; I spent a lot of hours on an organization project that no one who did not live in this house would even notice, and I got some Sugru to try to repair my camera grip since Nikon is giving me obnoxious runaround.
We had Indian food for dinner, having discovered that Mom's Organic Market has curry jackfruit that has the texture of meat, which is awesome. Then we watched Supergirl, which I liked for many reasons from sister issues to kick-ass women to Calista Flockhart practically stealing the show, and we haven't even really seen Kara's adoptive parents yet. It's much cheerier than Blindspot, which I like but it's so dark. Some photos from Brookside's chrysanthemum exhibit yesterday:
1 comment:
Depends on whether you want to see changing leaves or flowers -- there are many azaleas in the spring, lots of turtles in the summer, and the leaves like in the photo start peaking early in October.
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