Morning Moon

I've been sneaking out of the house before daybreak each morning to attend a microbiology class. Once again, not my favorite thing to do but I'm hopeful having the class on my transcript will lead to me being qualified to teach more classes. For the first time in my life I'm getting an A in a science class. This has never happend to me - imagine how funny it feels to do well in a class in which I have absolutely no interest... Hmmm...

E. coli anyone? Klebsiella pneumoniaea? No? Well, then, how about some Staphylococcus aureaus... I grew it myself!

Am I the only person in this class who gets the irony of the phrase "streaking for isolation?" The instructor intends for us to streak these petri plates with bacteria that can only grow on certain mediums, and so, we are streaking for isolation, but I imagine myself running naked through an empty meadow far up the Cascade mountains, literally streaking...for...isolation...

Here is the moon just this week as I left the driveway. It followed me all the way to school, then left me on my own.

Wild Geese (Mary Oliver)

You do not have to be good.

You do not have to walk on your knees

for a hundred miles through the desert, repenting.

You only have to let the soft animal of your body love what it loves.

Tell me about despair, yours, and I will tell you mine.

Meanwhile the world goes on.

Meanwhile the sun and the clear pebbles of the rain

are moving across the landscapes,

over the prairies and the deep trees,

the mountains and the rivers.

Meanwhile the wild geese, high in the clean blue air,

are heading home again.

Whoever you are, no matter how lonely,

the world offers itself to your imagination,

calls to you like the wild geese, harsh and exciting --

over and over announcing your place

in the family of things.

Leaf Beach

Fall (Edward Hirsch)
Fall, falling, fallen. That's the way the season
Changes its tense in the long-haired maples
That dot the road; the veiny hand-shaped leaves
Redden on their branches (in a fiery competition with the final remaining cardinals) and then
Begin to sidle and float through the air, at last
Settling into colorful layers carpeting the ground.
At twilight the light, too, is layered in the trees
In a season of odd, dusky congruences—a scarlet tanager
and the odor of burning leaves, a golden retriever
loping down the center of a wide street and the sun
Setting behind smoke-filled trees in the distance,
a gap opening up in the treetops and a bruised cloud
Blamelessly filling the space with purples.
Everything changes and moves in the split second between summer's
sprawling past and winter's hard revision, one moment
pulling out of the station according to schedule,
Another moment arriving on the next platform.
ItHappens almost like clockwork: the leaves drift away
From their branches and gather slowly at our feet,
Sliding over our ankles, and the season begins moving
Around us even as its colorful weather moves us,
Even as it pulls us into its dusty, twilit pockets.
And every year there is a brief, startling moment
When we pause in the middle of a long walk home and
Suddenly feel something invisible and weightless
Touching our shoulders, sweeping down from the air:
It is the autumn wind pressing against our bodies;
It is the changing light of fall falling on us.

The autumn light of late afternoon

This is what a happy, wet dog looks like...

We planted this Japanese maple last year and it has delivered fabulous fall color!

Halloween Trail

We began Halloween 2010 with our costume hats and then went for a good long walk on the lake trail. What a good day!

Daryl playing Scrabble with his brother online.

What a Good Dog!

On the trail

Last Cruise of the Year

Sweet Summer Days (Dennis Caraher)
The summer sun is nearly done
Frost will follow soon
Asters and chrysanthemums
Light up the afternoon

The dew is on long after dawn
Mornings are a haze
One swallow's song is holding on
In these fading sweet summer days.

We flew across the ocean
Some fell into the sea
God will choose what we will lose
Though we may disagree

We come here to be mended
That we may find our way
We pray that there's redemption
In these fading sweet summer days

Summer months comfort us
The sun comes with sustenance
We live for its lingering light

Days slip away from us
Katydids and crickets hush
We drift into lengthening night.

We were once our children
Too soon they will be us
All they ask, a simple task:
"Remember how it was."

We hold them close, we let them go
We watch them fly away
And if we trust, they'll come to us
In these fading sweet summer days

Stars they are innumerable
We'll never know them all
But nature's not immutable
Every star will fall

And one day, I'll return to thee
And all that will remain
Is the beauty and the certainty
of these fading sweet summer days.


Time to put the boat away! This year we have a better plan than last year, let's hope it works!

The beginnings of fall color on the north shore

Daryl thought he could stand on the floating dock and reach the boat. Then he thought he'd just hang onto the post and reach over. Then he realized it was too late...

but he was able to jump back onto the dock!

On our way!

Kayakers at Silver Beach

Pilings from the old saw and shake mills

Will it fit?! It was dark when we returned and we couldn't see well. Luckily Daryl can drive an 18-wheeler through a crystal factory and not touch a thing. We made it with him driving and me pretending like I know directional hand signals...

only inches to spare!

We got it in and then realized the garage door probably won't go down! after more maneuvering, it did.