WALK #133

Roadkill kills over a million animals per day in the U.S. and can be dangerous for species with small populations, e.g. killing 50% of Florida’s panthers, being the leading killer of England’s badgers, and helping make endangered species out of Australia’s wolf, koala and eastern quoll. Roadkill incidents rose as automobile speed ramped up in the early 20th century. Humans—such a dangerous species. And as I walked the edge of the highway to avoid vineyard paths that have been muddied by this week’s rain, I noticed the scent caused by each passing car because the skunk emitted anew every time its corpse was run over. I inhaled it all to apologize for my species and—because I too can be ruthless—for a future poem’s raw material.

[untitled]

Roadkill--

a poetics

of human encroachment

WALK #132

Trees have as many seasons as a year. And they reveal seasonal natures. Here's a winter tree:

Dear Tree,

Was it birds

who taught

you

how to claw

the sky

looking

for ribbons of

ripped blue

light?

WALK #131

Over a dozen white doves were malingering on the driveway this morning after the rain stopped, allowing me to go on a walk. Twas an unusual presence (a first for me anyway). Of what are these birdies a sign? Perhaps that I'm the one malingering... since I notice my walks are getting shorter. Must work on that!

Wish

Bless white doves

for never 

malingering

If doves are

present, peace

awaits

WALK #130

Yellow intervenes to liven up winter’s palette. The intervention is soft but definitely clear—such is the power of flowers.

[untitled]

Interventions soften when

they add

Beauty

WALK #129

During my walks, when I meet other walkers or joggers, we often greet with a "Hi" or "Good morning" as a matter of courtesy. This morning, I met a couple of joggers and boy were we all cheery with each other as we greeted each other with a MERRY CHRISTMAS! And California was gorgeous this morning. Good morning, ye merry Christmas!

Holiday

A friendly greeting

makes Christmas

merry!

WALK #127 & 128

Holiday rush and all that--I did do my daily walks but only had time to post once, so this covers two days of walking. Which is to say, these trees at full bloom present gorgeous framings of entrances. Who'd have thought that, stripped of leaves and blossoms, they also present beauty, though in a different way. Trees are shape-shifters--I knew that, but didn't really know _that_ until I saw these images below. Bare-boned, trees shape entrances into, not a home which, by virtue of being a home, is known. Bare-boned, their shapes become strange and evocative such that they effect entries into different worlds with the mind's turbulence joining the physical reality in imagining what lies at the end of a passage.

[untitled]

Imagination soars when

reality is

unknown

WALK #126

Mornings shroud. It can be obnoxious when a poet quotes from one of her poems, but let me be said obnoxious to quote from one of my poems:

“Sometimes the world should be veiled.”

Reminder

Sometimes

the world

should be veiled.

WALK #125

A lawn of frost and melting lines. We struggle to hold on. If the lines must curve, don’t let them break. Let coldness succor. 

Curve

Let the line

curve to

avoid

b  r  e

a  k

age

WALK #124

 Everything's ducky!

[untitled]

When everything's ducky

no one

ducks!

WALK #123

In Napa, I’ve mostly lived on a mountain looking down at vineyards. It’s new to live amidst vineyards. And their winter views are discoveries. I was telling someone recently, "You can travel far by staying in place."

You Define the Breadth I Seek

No matter how

far you

travel

you can go

as far

staying

in place. I

remain for

you.

WALKS #121 AND #122

I did do my daily walks in past two days but was too busy to post about yesterday's. So this post reports on two days worth of walking. To wit, it took over 100 days of walking around the neighborhood to discover this Miniature Library! These small libraries are among the greatest inventions of our times--it addresses decreasing literacy as well as bring books to areas that have become bereft of bookstores. It's the largest I've seen, with its 3 shelves (I usually see two shelves that are much narrower as the libraries are intended to be small interventions) and so the selection was better than usual. I laughed at myself for foregoing the "How-to-write-a-novel" tome; as with nearly anything I write, I have to do it my way. But I did pick up a book to do a checkmark on my mental list of To-Reads: theoretical physicist and futurist Michio Kaku whose string theory I've applied to my Kapwa poetics and novels. Onward!

Treehouse

-after Joyce Kilmer's "Trees"

I think that

I shall

always

see a library to

be as

lovely 

as a tree

whose wood

creates

homes for bodies,

spirits, and

minds.

WALK #120

Yep. Tis the season. May Covid not season you as you go shopping this weekend.

A neighbor's house.

Meta

A Christmas tree

for neighborhood

trees!

WALK #119

A bird shat on me!! Right on the middle of my bouncing head!! Good Crappy Morning, World!!

At first I was irritated by the bird murmurations. But, later, a friend shared an article that explains how being shat on by a bird is a greatly positive omen. Indeed, the article suggests I should buy a lottery ticket. We can use some great luck as described in the article:

"If any bird drops its poop on the top of your head, it’s meant to be extremely good luck. Let’s face it, the odds of this happening are extremely rare, so take it as a sign that good fortune is heading your way."

Well, that made my day!!

Dear Birds,

I welcome your

murmured Blessings

despite

the uniqueness of

your splotchy

messenger.

Please let it

be so

even

without a winning

lottery ticket.

Let

me know the

ecstasy of

flight

making paintings with

the blue

sky

that can be

entitled "Bliss,"

"Flight,"

"Freedom," or any

of their

variations.

WALK #118

Winter rains effect a Spring effect by pausing long enough for green shoots to poke out teensy tendrils between the cracks of drying mud. Lovely Irish.

Unseasonal Emeralds

Spring has sprung

in winter

following

a (temporary) cessation

of winter

rains.

WALK #117

I walked through several errands that required me to go to my hometown's Main Street where I saw its annual Christmas Tree formed from wine barrels. 

Home

Ashes to ashes--

trees to

trees

WALK #116

When the top of vineyards snag the clouds, the clouds become cotton balls.

Fuzzy

When the top

of vineyards

snag

clouds, they become

fuzzy cotton

balls

WALK #115

Here's the latest riff of Dr. Williams' iconic poem, "The Red Wheelbarrow." I walk for mischief!  

THE RED SHED

so much depends

upon

a red utility

shed

glazed with rain

water

beside winter's russet

vines

[untitled]

Red and russet

don't go

well

together, unless it's

for a

poem

WALK #114

Sorry to say that I only walked as far as the mailbox at the end of the driveway due to the rain. Here’s one of the views from the mailbox that I noir-ed up.

[untitled]

Some excuses look

better in

noir