Category Archives: Present, not precious – November 2016

Present, not precious – an epilogue

December 1 Hoar frost and hot coffee. After three nights of crystalline cold, December makes her entry with all the majesty of a final act. Today from my window, the sky seems limitless and the blue hoards no secrets. Yes, … Continue reading

Posted in Non-parabolic trajectory, Present, not precious - November 2016, Travel, Writing | Tagged , , | 3 Comments

Evergreen

That which lasts. That which endures. There is a poem I read about a year ago where the poet makes the observation that evergreens, while always having green boughs, still have needles that turn brown, go dry, and drop to … Continue reading

Posted in Non-parabolic trajectory, Present, not precious - November 2016, Uncategorized | Tagged , | Leave a comment

thermometer

There is a moment when drinking tea that the temperature is just right. Too soon after steeping and it scalds. Too late and the warmth, while pleasing, has lost the dimension that arises when heat is crossed with flavour to … Continue reading

Posted in Present, not precious - November 2016 | Tagged , | 3 Comments

Calendar

The stack of books on my bedside table is always precarious. Once in awhile, I clear it down to the bare minimum and stack the books neatly, but like rising bread dough, it grows back, alluring and top heavy. At … Continue reading

Posted in Non-parabolic trajectory, Poetry, Present, not precious - November 2016, Writing | Tagged , , , | 3 Comments

grass

Grass. What a funny word to write about at the end of November, so close to winter. If I had to summarize spring and summer in a single word, grass might be my choice. How does something so soft, so … Continue reading

Posted in moon and stars, Present, not precious - November 2016, Uncategorized | Tagged | Leave a comment

magazine

Serendipity is wiser than owls or oak trees. That’s a lot of wisdom. More cunning than coyotes? Possibly, but wisdom and chance take a different stance. They stand outside the rules of the game. A win is not that different … Continue reading

Posted in Conversation thief, Non-parabolic trajectory, Poetry, Present, not precious - November 2016 | Tagged , , | Leave a comment

paintbrush

for Leonard Cohen Like a pen, like a violinist’s bow, like a voice, like the expression of fingertips, like lighting in a photograph or dynamics in a symphony, like fingerprints, like footsteps, like feathers, like every single sunset and every … Continue reading

Posted in Music and art, Present, not precious - November 2016 | Tagged , , , , | Leave a comment