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 |   Enga mellom fjella: where from across the meadow, poems sing from mountains and molehills. |
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Enga mellom Fjella  Sentinel Marked as if you own me I bow before the Bitterroots and just like you my rocky soil, my withered grass lays prey to the empty sky. © Kåre Enga 2007 "Sentinel"   Reader's Choice of Poems: "Zmitri" "In Lagada, la vita" "Tales told over scones and hot tea" "Speak soft my name" "Starbeams on Tulsa" Reader's Choice of blog entries from my old blog "L'aura del Campo" :"Death of Jeannie New Moon" "Doing and don'ting. A scene in 2nd person." "In a garden of roses, baby" "Footprints in the snow, in memory of Nyia Page" "Poems inspired by maps. Remember 1963?" FACES     PLACES            Kåre  Enga~ until everything was rainbow, rainbow, rainbow! And I let the fish go. ~ Elizabeth Bishop The Fish |
...raccoons. Just a few flakes out there, mostly in the mountains. Been mild. But... minus temps are forecast for Monday and Tuesday. As in... below zero Fahrenheit. I looked like a bedraggled Santa... so I cut off my beard. Just in time for the snow and cold... When it isn't white here it's brown, not green. Grey over brown isn't as pretty as blue over white. Lavinia gifted me a tall green travel mug with a tight cap. It works!Me, myself and I: Visited Joyce yesterday. She's convalescing from having a defibrillator inserted after dizziness and a fall. It was nice to sit there, watch TV and chat. Plus, the tortellini wasn't bad either. Joyce is very outgoing and this staying-at-home, until the doctors say otherwise, will quickly grow old. So, I'll need to visit again. Soon. I went out for short walks three days in a row. This is good. It's good for my legs and my spirit. The weather hasn't been too bad... but will be. On my walk today I went to Winter Market and bought Strasbourg sausage and small potatoes for boiling. Plus found out about a website called Vayama (for cheap plane tickets). Reading... writing... slowly unboxing stuff and even slower at getting rid of it... Oh well. As for raccoons: Bob, a neighbor of Joyce, has a friend Brian who lives in a culvert. He shares the space with raccoons who chatter if anyone seems a threat. He has two sleeping bags and enough food; although the raccoons... In any case, he has figured out how to live and survive. I can think of worse scenarios. |
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