June 1, 2012

A tall thistle somehow got past me in the garden. I was going out to pull it when I noticed it had sudden golden flowers– no, not flowers, but a pair of goldfinches, gobbling its seeds. The thistle stays.

When I got home from New York, a fledgling mockingbird lay drowned in the water garden. The parents are still vigilant, so there must be more.

Anecdote from Newark Airport. I wore my Black Keys T-shirt (the unexpected heat in New York having forced me to sweat through everything else) home. It’s black and features an image in white of the Hindenberg blowing up, with the name The Black Keys written on the descending fire. After I’d gone through security, the officer on the other side pointed at my chest and said, “What’s that?”
“A Black Keys T-shirt. It’s a band.”
“How do I know it’s a band?”
Now, I considered responding, “Because I just said so,” but I did say, “It’s a sort of grungy rock band from Akron. I follow it a little–“
She says, “I don’t think so.”
Me: “You don’t think so?”
She “I do not think so at all.”
Me: “Well, what do you think it is?”
She: “We are trained to follow our gut feelings, and my gut feeling is telling me you ain’t quite as smart as you think you are.” She crosses her arms and pops out her eyes in that knowing black woman gesture you see all the time on TV. I turn around, finish repacking my carry-on, and walk past her toward the gate without another word. Nothing happened, so I assume her gut simmered down. There is just enough chance that she was joking. Otherwise: Cow.

Bach on Spotify.

Revising since I got home, with a renewed sense, I think, of what the stage wants.

C and L have had a son. Blessed be.