August 7, 2008

The bathroom window looks out on a thicket of mint and rose, the rose mostly thorn now, but the mint in bee-thronged spires of pale lavender bloom. Beyond the thicket the groundhog has his lair, perhaps in Carolyn’s basement, but I think more likely behind the heap of trash she has leaning against her wall. I watched him for a long time. He was perfectly at peace, his brown length draped over a pile of lumber. He’s used to casual household sounds, clearly, and I could shower without disturbing him. What was he thinking? For I know he was thinking something. He’s a little fat bodhisattva battening on my clover, sanctifying Carolyn’s junk pile.

Went to the Asheville Aquarium and bought a "planted fresh water aquarium." I told Shawn that she should take it as a commission for a work of art, and set it up in the way she thinks best. All the fish I liked she thought were "messy" or "aggressive" anyway, so I gave up. I think in general I tend to prefer messy and aggressive.