Poem for Monday and Bellevue Arts

Juan Higera Creek
By Robinson Jeffers

Neither your face, Higera, nor your deeds
Are known to me; and death these many years
Retains you, under grass or forest-mould.
Only a rivulet bears your name: it runs
Deep-hidden in undeciduous redwood shade
And trunks by age made holy, streaming down
A valley of the Santa Lucian hills.
There have I stopped, and though the unclouded sun
Flew high in loftiest heaven, no dapple of light
Flecked the large trunks below the leaves intense,
Nor flickered on your creek: murmuring it sought
The River of the South, which oceanward
Would sweep it down. I drank sweet water there,
And blessed your immortality. Not bronze,
Higera, nor yet marble cool the thirst;
Let bronze and marble of the rich and proud
Secure the names; your monument will last
Longer, of living water forest-pure.

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I had a social Monday, albeit long distance. A family member in another state was having surgery, minor but always concerning, so I talked to a lot of immediate family members about that, and I have two friends who recently lost parents after long illnesses, whom I'd spoken to only briefly while they were making arrangements, both of whom called in the afternoon for long conversations. So there was some stress and sadness, but it was nice to catch up with everyone. Plus I visited my next door neighbor for the first time, as strange as that sounds! 

It was nearly 95 degrees, so we did not walk to the beach (though we probably will tomorrow, when it will be the same temperature). Instead I did some minor rearranging, which I deemed sufficient exercise, and we went out on the dock, where we saw a great blue heron and a coot but everything else was hiding from the heat. After some switching between the Orioles and Mariners games, we caught up on the season premiere of Billions (Axe!) and this week's Futurama (Dune!) around Miracle Workers (robots!). From the Bellevue Arts Fair: