went for a drive on the backroads with v---. picked a posy of aster and snowberry and yarrow. so pretty. along the road at the end of a huge lemon gum arcade there was a giant metal statue of a skelington holding an automatic weapon. a real weapon. whoever created the skelington was a talented welder. i was impressed.
i've found a new cafe to haunt. this one is much better than the other. it isn't as beautiful and doesn't have a garden but it does have a very friendly owner. that counts for a lot. i've been hanging out for well over an hour and haven't received a dirty look. in fact when i asked if the cafe had wifi the owner said "yes! have a seat. stay as long as you like. look at all the porn you want!" to which i replied "great! you'll find me over there then!" and gestured at a nearby sofa. then we both chuckled. the cafe i usually frequent recently taped up all of their outlets to discourage patrons from hanging around and internetting for hours. i spent a lot of time there doing just that. but also spending money on coffee. i guess they don't need the cash. no skin off my nose.
across the street yellow leaves are falling in drifts from the black walnut tree every time the wind blows. it's really lovely. the sky is full of dark clouds. the wind is cold. i love this weather. it makes me wish i had a cozy garret to return home to. maybe one that looked like this:
but with a potbellied stove surrounded by a brass fender. or maybe a fireplace with andirons in the shape of fanciful and frightening animals. yes please.
okee dokee. i go.
it just occurred to me that every momentous and great change in my life has been accompanied by taking up residence near a river or creek. how strange. if i find a hawk's head by a log where a mysterious woman has been coming down her long brown hair i'll know it is a big change indeed this time. i'm not talking gibberish even if it's incomprehensible. trust me.
as i type this a chain gang is hacking up the underbrush along the river bottom. i suppose it isn't fair to call them a chain gang really since they aren't chained together. but they are prisoners. their orange jumpsuits say so. they haven't been hacking away long but already i can see the murky green water of the river flowing past between the willows and black cottonwoods. they mulch every branch they drag up from the bottom. i wanted to make bent wood chairs from the green willow. drat. the nettles are all trampled flat. the blackberry is being attacked with gloved hands and chainsaws. i wonder how the jays' nest is doing. they usually nest quite high up so they're probably fine. but the noise of the saws and chippers must be stressful. i hope the inmates leave the giant bay wood log alone. i like to sit on it. one of the prisoners has a pole saw and is taking the low branches of pine down. the sap is dripping out. the air is filled with a horrible dusty haze. the spectacle is both unpleasant and sort of exciting. i'm also oddly comforted by the sound of saws. i'm used to hearing those. the sound of my parents cutting wood.
the weather has turned so cool. perfect autumn weather. went for a drive yesterday. ended up at the cafe. sat outside and read. the sky was a clear and very saturated blue. lovely.
for a while sister and i lived near a cave. we'd walk there with a trail of animals behind us. mostly cats and dogs. in the evening the fog would come over the mountains from the sea. we'd see who could throw rocks the farthest. buttercups. sit under an oak and read the odyssey aloud to each other. a white goldfish. rose geranium in a pot outside the door in summer. in winter it lived on the shelf indoors. the rose geranium slip i picked downtown is growing little white roots. the smell of the leaves makes me happy.
went out walking. landed at the cafe. listened to three youngsters speaking portuguese at the table next to me. the sound of bantam hens. i mean that in the most flattering way. a lovely susurration. like a broom on flags. a particularly dreadful song came on the radio. i thought to myself this sounds like the theme from a very bad late '80s sitcom. a moment later i heard laughing from a nearby table. a couple. the man said "this sounds like the theme song from a bad '80s show. about a guy and his wacky roommates. his best friend is his dog." and he laughed. and i laughed out loud. we locked eyes for a moment and then i pretended to return to my book all the while suppressing laughter. it was silly. thankfully the theme was utterly forgettable else i'd now have it stuck in my head.
in my mother's shed there's an old picnic set that belonged to my grandparents. it's one of those plaid thermos affairs. i really like it. i wish i had it with me now. and i wish i had the bright yellow plaid blanket too. i'd take a thermos of hot coffee to the trees by the cemetery and lay in the sun and read. it's quite cool outside today. feels like a switch has been thrown. the box elder out the window is turning lovely shades of green-gold and yellow-orange.
someone is walking around in the dark beating a cooking pot with a wooden spoon. i can't see them. but i know the sound well enough. maybe they're trying to scare away bad spirits the way one does on the eve of a new year. making noises in the dark. stamping one's feet. banging on a kettle.
the other night i saw a bear cross the road. it was wonderful. tonight i sat with my father in his cabin and chatted about all sorts of things. general "old blood and guts" patton. sweetbreads. my slovenian step-grandpa. stewed pork with prunes. pigeon point lighthouse. the california water crisis. road maps. crossbows. systems of organization. reclaimed wood. the interwebs (which father will soon experience for the first time at age 79). so on and so forth. i was amused and entertained.
terrifying encounter with a car just now in the same intersection where a man was killed yesterday. my heart is in my throat still. the homeless guys who saw a car nearly plow into me informed me that after a certain hour the intersection lights go through two cycles before letting pedestrians cross. i saw the light turn for me to cross and stepped off the curb just in time to see the light change rapidly to green for oncoming traffic. since it's a major highway the car was going really fast and didn't even slow. just blew its horn as i jumped back onto the curb. really scary. the nearest footbridge takes one through an even scarier vagrant encampment though. options are limited. death by hobo shiv or death by ineffectual traffic signals. also one of the crosswalks near my house is obscured by shrubbery. when cars come into the intersection and they're making a right turn if they have a red light oftentimes they don't even slow down. drivers don't see people standing on the corner waiting to cross. the same girl has almost run me over twice as she sped through a red light to make a right hand turn even though i had a green walk sign!
