July 15, 2020

Addressed myself to the riverside office. Went to Habitat for Humanity to find the last necessary shelving, and was successful. Deep delving will wait for another time, but in passing I remember when photography was my second art. There are dozens of albums full of photos, and a couple of thousand slides slipped meticulously into little clear pockets. I bet on the wrong technology there. Flipped only a few pages when grief and remembrance made me stop. Does anyone manage to hold their whole life together, beginning to end? The first scarlet hibiscus blooms. The sore I was certain was cancer is gone. People complain about the heat, but I creep around like a tropical lizard, soaking it in, storing it for the time of frost. Put together In a Garden of Almost Too Much Light.