Lizard

 August 5, 2026

Turbulent day. 

Rich, intricate dreams, that ended with an extended wildlife motif. At the last I was inspecting a zoo of some kind, and was shown an exhibit where the occupant had not been seen for days. Immediately it came out of the sand, a large red lizard as friendly and demonstrative as a dog. Each time I passed, the lizard came out to greet me. This seemed symbolic at the time. 

The pond weighs inordinately on my mind. This is because it’s an ecosystem that I fostered and for which I feel responsibility. When it’s not getting aerated, I despair. Today I realized (after literally years of anxiety) that I didn’t have to replace the inaccessible motor, but could install one of those portable plug-in fountains that squirts water into the air. Raced to Jesse Israel and got one. Installation was complicated because the motor I mentioned before keeps throwing the breaker, and it looked like the new fountain didn’t work either, until I figured it all out. I do not do well with trial and error, though the universe imposes it on me when it wants. 

 

August 4, 2026

There’s a table with house plants in the living room. Every so often in the evening the houseplants quiver as though struck by a strong breeze. I’ll be sitting watching, and am sure there was in fact no strong breeze, and no way for there to be one. The fan might be on, but it’s been on for hours without any shuddering of the foliage. A little botanical ghost. A figurine of the Buddha sits amid the plants. Maybe he’s responsible. 

Taliesin

 August 2, 2026

Bought some items at Sav-Mor, and as I paid I noticed the check-out boy’s name tag: Taliesin. I knew in an instant who he was, and that I had given him that name. He’s J’s son. When D was pregnant with him, J and I strove to come up with a name that was both heroic and unusual. I’d been reading Charles Williams, so I drew Taliesin out of the air. He’s never met his father, and couldn’t believe he was as near as Johnson City. He quizzed me on J, all the while unsure he wanted to meet and know “a man like that.” Certainly J has not earned his son’s– any of his sons’– admiration. Taliesin is slight and skinny and delicate-looking, but recognizably his father’s. “What kind of man was my father?” he said. Before I censored myself, I said, “I loved him.” 

On the Internet– where I spend much too much of my time– are lists of symptoms and what ailment they indicate. When I read these, they usually imply I’m pretty damn healthy. But I read one: If You Grew up with Emotionally Undemonstrative Parents You Probably:. I tick every single box, exhibit every characteristic, have developed every single coping mechanism listed.

 August 1, 2026

Drove to Valvoline and got my car inspected by the ultra-hot redneck boys. 

Drove to Woodfin to look at the water from what used to be Riverside Park. Still raw and ruinous, as it may be for a century. Mostly people walking their dogs, none of the dogs apparently interested in meeting me. Ten geese flew by, honking, with the eleventh trailing behind. 

I try to avoid conversations with T, because they never end, but I was caught today. I helped him with the English words “dwarf” and “owl.” He works five or six jobs to keep his family afloat and navigates what a Mexican immigrant has to navigate, so he surprised me by fulminating against lazy poor people and people who want things handed to them. Maybe explains why there are immigrant Republicans– we worked hard, and by God they must too. I honor that without feeling it. T is jealous because my mulberries and his were planted at the same time, and mine are gigantic, while his are paltry. He believed that through the last several summers I underpaid him by $1500, so we got that settled. 

Calling of frogs, the music of peace.