After Tornado Warnings Last Night, This

Old and New

My friend is old and hospitalized, thanks to a broken ankle.

This view off the plateau is old, but the approach is new.

The woods in Sewanee are old as is what grows there.

The balls in the woods that have been chipped of the golf course beyond the tree break are new.

 

Today, what's old is great. 

The new, not so much.

Freeze Warning!

Give me a break! I mean, really.

Quintessential Sewanee

Fog

Green's View

Selfies at the View

Groomsmen

Of Two Ponds, Two Lakes, One Horse and Rider, One View, and Fall

I
The Day Lake Road ponds shimmer in morning sun, swollen with rain, becoming lakes nearly, and bursting with Autumn Meadowhawks, mating and ovipositing.

II
Lakes Cheston and Dimmick wear fall well.

III
Firecracker and her rider (wearing orange as protection from "juvenile hunters"), a chance friend I see every now and then, enjoyed the day as much as I. A nuzzle and a head rub while listening to a tale of Firecracker's "failure" as a walking horse prospect, I marvel at her good luck when just the right young woman found her, and saved her, and loves her.

IV
A crowd gathered at Green's View for one reason: to look.

V
Today, I'd rather walk or ride or lie under trees more than anything else I can name. Call me Smut Woman: I am a slut for Autumn.

Please Sir, I'll Have More

There can never ever be enough fall color.

Bless Him

My House Priest, friend TL, has been here off and on for a few days, working through my list of repairs. Thanks to him every door in my house now eases closed silently, both toilets have new seats and guts, the terrible ceiling patch job created by another has been removed and corrected, falling-out hardware and falling-in random holes have been patched, . . . . In other words, he has performed a miraculous exorcism.

I thank him as much as we who live here all love this view.

A new wind has blown into town.

Sometimes

I just want to sit and watch the sky change.

Where I live, I can do that,

and always be surprised.

The Big Picture

This morning, I turned my head toward the space heater, looking for Lucy. 

I forgot, for just a moment, that Lucy died last week.

Later, I came in from an errand, looked upstairs, and called out, Luce!

I forgot, for just a moment, that Lucy died last week.

At the grocery, the clerk said, "Since my husband is out in his truck, my dog and I just stay in the bedroom with the space heater on."

"That's what my cat and I do, only in the study," I said.

I forgot, for just a moment, that Lucy died last week.

After the bank and the dump, I decided to take in the big picture: I drove out to Green's View. For a moment, the sun broke out, but the clouds tell a different story. It'll be cold again tonight.

And I'll wish Lucy could keep me warm.

Soft Time

A time 
when earth 
and sky
wear muted 
hues like
loose tweed 
or cashmere, 
so soft 
even rock 
invites slumber, 
vistas flatten:
all becomes
foreground.