||[Mar. 16th, 2014|10:20 pm]
The oaks leaves now filter the moonlight, though they remain few enough that the silhouetted bones of the trees can still be seen. The moon itself floats among thin clouds that ripple across the sky like wrinkled gauze. The chorus of the frogs seems to grow nightly, and tonight an owl accompanies it, hooting like an imperious diva. The air grows surprisingly mild, and I catch a faint whiff of spurge laurel, pungent yet sweet, the scent of spring. Now it truly seems that winter will not return, and if spring does not bring kindly rain we will be parched when summer arrives. The moonlight washes a fresh world, but how long will the freshness last?|
I Remember Galileo
by Gerald Stern
I remember Galileo describing the mind
as a piece of paper blown around by the wind,
and I loved the sight of it sticking to a tree,
or jumping into the backseat of a car,
and for years I watched paper leap through my cities;
but yesterday I saw the mind was a squirrel caught crossing
Route 80 between the wheels of a giant truck,
dancing back and forth like a thin leaf,
or a frightened string, for only two seconds living
on the white concrete before he got away,
his life shortened by all that terror, his head
jerking, his yellow teeth ground down to dust.
It was the speed of the squirrel and his lowness to the ground,
his great purpose and the alertness of his dancing,
that showed me the difference between him and paper.
Paper will do in theory, when there is time
to sit back in a metal chair and study shadows;
but for this life I need a squirrel,
his clawed feet spread, his whole soul quivering,
the loud noise shaking him from head to tail.
O philosophical mind, O mind of paper, I need a squirrel
finishing his wild dash across the highway,
rushing up his green ungoverned hillside.
Oh, the squirrel! Reading that made me tense up for him.
I read about the quake to your south today. It wasn't till I moved here that I learned the locals are all cavalierly waiting for The Big One. Great.
I hadn't even heard about that earthquake. Well, it was only a 4.4. That won't even break a window unless you're right on top of it, but I'm sure the television channels were all over it. So much time to fill, so little news.