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birbs and bursts
Jul. 9th, 2021 10:55 pmLife is immense and intense, with many people and apps behaving badly, critters where they shouldn't be (roach in the sink, moths in the cupboard), and yargh, but the new job is hella fun, my carnivorous plant has been snacking on pests in my study, and I've spent at least an hour (and usually more like four) on a lake or river every weekend since the start of May. I am not much of a bird watcher, but I do enjoy hanging out with the herons and ducks on Percy Priest:
That said, it has become so crowded at the lake on Sundays that I'm going to stay home. There's plenty to do here, with fireflies for company. When I looked up from the tomato vines last week, the pink bursts at the top of the crepe myrtles caught my eye. This week, the plants with open flowers include an azalea, zinnias, mallows, peppers, and eggplants, along with the first balloonflower:
What energy I've had for writing has been reserved for correspondence, although I did lunge for pencil and scratch pad during a Zoominar where gems were blinking in and out of existence within the auto-captioning.
I do have a new publication credit: "Reverence" appears in Shelter in This Place: Meditations on 2020, a Unitarian Universalist anthology published by Skinner House.
A fully vaccinated friend tested positive for COVID this week. I had already planned to heed my gut and err on the side of caution through the rest of the summer, and likely beyond -- no to gyms, no to indoor shape-note singing, no to outdoor contradancing. I'm not going to be a hermit -- I have people to thank and connections to tend, so I'll host some small gatherings and hit a few happy hours -- but it does simplify life a smidge to look at all the diversions on offer and recognize that they are not for me. Not right now, and probably not soon. I'd like to feel more at ease when I'm on a bike. My "watch later" queue has 144 clips. There are five or six vases/glasses around the house stuffed with tomato cuttings. There's getting out the vote. The ironing pile is again taller than an average German shepherd. There's plenty to do.
That said, it has become so crowded at the lake on Sundays that I'm going to stay home. There's plenty to do here, with fireflies for company. When I looked up from the tomato vines last week, the pink bursts at the top of the crepe myrtles caught my eye. This week, the plants with open flowers include an azalea, zinnias, mallows, peppers, and eggplants, along with the first balloonflower:
What energy I've had for writing has been reserved for correspondence, although I did lunge for pencil and scratch pad during a Zoominar where gems were blinking in and out of existence within the auto-captioning.
I do have a new publication credit: "Reverence" appears in Shelter in This Place: Meditations on 2020, a Unitarian Universalist anthology published by Skinner House.
A fully vaccinated friend tested positive for COVID this week. I had already planned to heed my gut and err on the side of caution through the rest of the summer, and likely beyond -- no to gyms, no to indoor shape-note singing, no to outdoor contradancing. I'm not going to be a hermit -- I have people to thank and connections to tend, so I'll host some small gatherings and hit a few happy hours -- but it does simplify life a smidge to look at all the diversions on offer and recognize that they are not for me. Not right now, and probably not soon. I'd like to feel more at ease when I'm on a bike. My "watch later" queue has 144 clips. There are five or six vases/glasses around the house stuffed with tomato cuttings. There's getting out the vote. The ironing pile is again taller than an average German shepherd. There's plenty to do.
