Full Vic's Moon
The full moon rises Thursday September 28 at 645, just before sunset at 656. Yeowser, should be a grand magnified color show, hang on to your hats y'all. The moon last night came up and was quite splendid, just a shadow on one edge from perfect, then it shined its headlight in my eyes all night as I attempted sleep.
Look y'all, Margaret has been at it again:
Is it
the play of light
on the surface
or air bubbles moving
over glass-calm
water I watch
still, quiet bayou
breathe, like me,
slow and deliberate
taking in life-
giving oxygen.
We are trying to survive,
bayou and I,
trying to make this day
meaningful
all the while knowing
breath is all
that matters.
Margaret Simon, draft
8-30-23 P and I ran into town to grab a fancy meal to celebrate our 55th, oh my! On way back, dark, missed the full moon risen. when we arrived home someone sent a congrats text, "congrats on 55 on this full moon night". Shoots! we were in our PJs already but hey, we grabbed the keys to head out to our fav full moon rising spot and there she was! It was so grand y'all!
8-31-23 We drove to Navasota, TX for visit with sis Celeste and fam. So dry, so hot, lots of Bluebirds, Hummers, Butterflies all weekend, this was a good way to celebrate.
On drive in and while here (two Docs in attendance) discovered that P had an inflamed facial nerve resulting in Bell's Palsy a temporary inconvenience we hope.
my bud Vic Hummert's first Haiku from 1992:
One cannot outrun
Brain tumors so must relax
Then call them your friends
now from one of his latest books of Haiku, Fourth-Quarter Haiku:
Death is progressive
As we are set free from all
Bondage to ourselves
and my favorite:
"Just visiting Earth"
Seeking to do good for all
Say those who love God
Father Vic, a Maryknoll missionary served the poor, underserved and uneducated the world over, Harlem, Hong Kong, Guatemala, Venezuela, Bolivia or Cuba. He also spent his time protesting the weapons of mass destruction and environmental injustice here and everywhere. He hit an obstacle in the form of a brain tumor in the early '90's that caused him to resign from the priesthood, but did not stop him. He told me that since the tumor, Haiku come to him every day, now (in 2013 over 12,000). Vic's simple poems appeal to me, a simple gardener, ha! Not sure when I met him but it is over twenty years. He is a good man married now to a good woman, Rose. I am proud to count them as friends.
9-1-23 Waiting wedged between great Hill Country of Texas and Big Thicket Country to south and East, for great-niece Grace and her new little brother Jack to come with Mommie an Daddy. We made homemade Lemon Ice Cream to go with the ginger Snaps Mimi baked, yummy!
wait is that Margaret again?:
Small Kindness
after Danusha Lameris
I’ve been thinking about the
way
when I open a car door, and a little kinder kid jumps out,
how the driver says, “Thank you.”
How on the way to school, a
white suburban slowed
to let me merge ahead.
How cinnamon bread, a gift from my neighbor
fills the kitchen with sweetness.
I want to believe everyone
is kind and thoughtful. I want to find grace
in the corner of the parking
lot
waiting for me to notice her.
Margaret Simon, draft
9-2-23 A swimming morning. Loud! Hot! Dry, so much fun. Mommy and Daddy went home to a funeral then a wedding, wow, what a mix of events. We are keeping the kids for them, overnight, so much fun y'all!
Margaret again, this time the teacher Margaret:
Volleyball Team
Last year in fourth grade
she would skip recess
awkwardly reading in a corner
of my classroom.
Fifth grade offered a
volleyball team.
She arrived with a brightly colored volleyball,
tossed it with confidence,
leaning on it while writing.
“I’m on the volleyball team
this year.”
We talked about the serve I could never master.
She showed me how it’s done now–
from the palm-up wrist rather than the thumb.
A flower blooming
through a crack in the concrete,
hoping to find its way
to shine on the court.
Margaret Simon, draft
9-3-23 visited ER to verify Bell's Palsy and began tmt, Yay!
9-8-23 Celeste called from Navasota ranch to say RTHB migration was in full swing, they were being mobbed. Brother John over on the lip of the escarpment at Cote Gelee in Broussard agreed with her.
9-16-23 John called announcing 0.15" rain and 22 RTHBs with more perched in oaks. He declared it peak migration
On top of Teche Ridge here in lower upper St Martin we had1" of sweet sweet rain, Ahhhhh!
9-19-23 Hummers gone, GONE! Just like that, North breeze and cool. They cut and ran for points south.
| Margaret's dog Charlie died, her bud... Cinnamon Bread Lisa brought me cinnamon bread walk without holding a leash, Can I take a taste inside Can I drop a crumb and not look There are days he lived only to comfort me. Familiar becomes foreign Margaret Simon (dedicated to Charlie Dog Simon) 9-21-23 Hummers back in big numbers, this "wave", yes they migrate that way, it seems to me. If you listen carefully, have an Arkansas accent y'all. Just in time for the Autumnal Equinox tomorrow. Equal day length and night length, so cool. 9-22-23 Autumnal Equinox, Fall Equinox, tomorrow first day of fall. 9-26-23 Arrived home while still light to walk back to close up the chickens for the night. There are always Crows about my place, not many, 3-7 at most. Today they are up to something, I see them chasing a small hawk back and forth over my hen yard. Finally they chase her off. probably a Cooper Hawk or something in the Pigeon Hawk size range, not a chicken hawk for sure. reminds me that it seems as though Hawk migration is starting 9-27-23 Brother John still talking big RTHB numbers in Broussard, cannot tell here. Rain real spotty. P and I traveled over the Big Muddy to Baton Rouge for a Dr visit and our river is critically low. P's Bell's Palsy symptoms gone for the most part, 90%, whew! I miss my students so much. in cleaning my office, as I slowly move out, I found a garden journal, Madeline T's Journal from spring 2018. Madeline was a non-major, English literature major, taking a few of my classes to get closer to the Earth. In my Plant Science lab, thanks to Father Vic, I required that the students keep a Garden Journal as part of their grade, a Haiku per week was a part of the Journal. Madeline seemed perplexed and challenged by this and took to it like a duck to water. Here is some of her poetry: Haiku #1 Soil caked on hands, nest'ing deep into my palms like frosting on cake Haiku #2 Two Rolly Pollies bumbling about Earth's bed. I, too, want to dance. Haiku #5 New growth: it leaves me with a great abundance of overwhelming joy. I reached out to Madeline to return her journal bc it was so wonderful and personal. I found her in Mandeville, north of the Pontchatrain, a new wife and new teacher, HS English Literature. You go girl! Lake Maurepas is a lake to the West of Pontchatrain, smaller, perhaps 20% of the big lake in size. Madeline's people are from north of Maurepas, my people lived south of it. It is a lake surrounded by cypress swanp. Very cool y'all. MAUREPAS There is little known here where the earth chews slowly always some moment between life and decay. A foot slips into dark waters while playing And shadows stretch across slow moving rivers of another World present before us. we are only visitors in this agitated land, always Rotting from the inside out. This is no garden for the living, only ghosts Willing to share a bite. The earth chews petroleum slowly as though natural gas aids the quick living quick loving quick to love and lose All too soon in the stretching shadows of the bayou below where the agitated land rots from the inside out. Whew Madeline, that mud is deep! Thank you. Note: I will return Madeline's journal and enclose a simple wedding gift as well one crafted of Cherry Wood by my bud Spoon Man Mike who carves in Lydia. peace and love, Maestro y'all get out and do not forget the old people and children. relax, tell stories and enjoy this moon and a glass of tart red. P and I will raise a glass to you our friends. peace love possumhugs BT |
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