Rated: 13+ · Book · Biographical · #1317094
Enga mellom fjella: where from across the meadow, poems sing from mountains and molehills.
|Sometimes I am overwhelmed by sadness.
I saw a hound today hopping on 3 legs and shivering. His short coat was not keeping him warm. I got the impression his master is homeless. I hope they found a warm place ... and a biscuit.
People die in the winter in Montana. Wildlife, livestock, pets die as well. The channels of the Clark Fork are narrowing. Soon the flow will be stilled. What will the ducks do? It will not get above freezing till who-knows-when. Hopefully the elk moved down and found shelter before the storm hit.
But this is the natural flow of the seasons in Montana. Even windchills of -78 were survived in Missoula in 1988. But much perished. Folks learned to cherish each other and the moments they shared.
© 2008 Kåre Enga [165.J1888] 2008-12-15
Edited from page 1,888 of my handwritten Journal, October Tenth.
Someone will comment 'how cruel' but I've learned that poor folk like most folk do the best that they can and as sad as I am, I won't judge nor interfere. I believe I have spoken to the dog's master before and he grabbed the dog by the collar and spoke to it about going somewhere for a biscuit.
BLAH BLAH BLAH:
Today I sat in the sunshine streaming in my windows unwilling to go out. I did but was disappointed as they had goulash again at the Senior Center. So I went and bought another baguette instead. They don't seem to last long.
I showered and dried off ... forever. No need to catch cold. I needed cash and my bank is on the other side of the bridge. As I went across I noted how the channels in the Clark Fork are narrowing. I stopped in at the library and borrowed a poetry book of Greg Pape who teaches at UM and another by Tarjei Vesaas (1897-1970) one of my favorite Norwegian authors of novelettes and poems. I even took out A River Runs Through It by Norman Maclean. I've never read it! Nor seen the movie. Since it is placed here in Western Montana, it's about time.
Had 'white pearl' tea at Butterfly Herbs and inhaled the fragrance of jasmine while reading a New Yorker article on the poet Frank O'Hara. Stopped in at Celtic Connection and chided Sean for having nothing on his bald head. He's young, foolish and from Belfast where it doesn't get much below freezing. Ate a fish taco at Taco del Sol.
Went to Zootown Brew and got a cup of Kenya, sat in front of the fake-fireplace heater and wrote a 'letter' to a friend in Kansas. Since it's borderline GC it won't appear here in this blog. The front windows are frosted in a beautiful pattern. It's been frigid.
The sunshiny high today was 4.1º. It is now well below zero.
It's a good season to read.
NURTURE YOUR NATURE
My walk home tonight is recorded in one of my other blogs, in entry: "A walk home after dark"
Zootown Brew's window of frosty lace:
Montana: -9.7º at 22:22