Archives for January 2022

Sideways at the peninsula.

Not everything worked the same way that day.

The plants seemed strained and waiting to bend after a night of strong winds.

The guests looked suspicious or perhaps it was a look of surprise.

The pool was overfilled.

The clock was slow.

The cars were silent and lacked the usually rorty exhaust note.

It was the official and actual Day of the End of One and Beginning of the New Season.

The watershed moment can be so very full with confusion.

My clothes had changed.

These were not the warm set I’d put on earlier in the day.

I was sure I had not gone back and chosen a new outfit.

There I was in red striped pants and a gold jacket, looking like a million dollars, a showman and ostentatious celebrity all at once.

For someone thrilled by the idea of a faux polar expedition this was unsuitable.

And winter, judging by the level of the cheap thermometer tacked to the gate, was in determined presence.

Sometimes you have to go with the flow, improvise, laugh at the peculiarity of the situation.

That was the moment to smile.

Red control.

Under the kitchen counter or in the garage.

Two planks of wood and a daffodil.

The decision was hard to make.

But it solidified after that moment, commiting and never looking back. Well, just a quick glance.

Hello neighbor, hows the banjo?

Trying to tune it.

Sounds better.

We shared a small cup of tea, well,two cups.

This tea was not what you might think, or perhaps it is.

It was sweet and unlike any we had tasted.

Fruit and almonds, Cinnamon and Cumin.

The people we met in our travels were more different from each other than the tea.

They were sweet or bitter or both or neither.

And who on earth did they think we were!?

It s an endless study and field of amazement.

Our life, their lives.

Always hope for a sunny day and deal with the fog like a fisherman.

So the lights were bright.

Fog lights.

The fog horn sounded every 7 seconds to identify our quaint harbor.

We started polishing glasses at the Hook, Line and Sinker pub.

Music filtered through foggy leaves as the busker brought bright songs of fortune.

A Ferrari had the exhaust tone to cut through this obscured scene and the color of course, to brighten a deep cave.

Storied and stored.