Under the canopy resting and weary
too much success for Jonah
who brought a word to Nineveh
the people repented
and Jonah was angry with God
How can such a warring people
find salvation from you God
then the worm came
ate the tree
no more shade
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dVerse prompt on shade
Smoke filled the valley coming into Idaho. Where there were mountains now you could not see mountains and dusk came early from the thick haze. Bring some rain we pleaded in a circle dance, dancing all night while the flames shot forty feet into the dark sky.
Who can save us from this char-filled air, breathing in the remnants of fire hundreds of miles away over the Canadian border? Last night it stormed all night in Zion.
Lightning strikes the earth
Twenty fires in Idaho
The state is burning
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dVerse prompt on the imperfect
Somewhere in the world
it is the next day
traveling to Africa from DC
window seat and looking out
the daylight fades
I pass the point where day becomes night
or night becomes day
whichever way you are going
it is there
luminous fading fleeting moment
then a vast ocean of blackness
until the light settles again
on the housetops in Senegal
Two pileated woodpeckers chip away on a dead fir. Where I stand
it is raining bits and pieces of the old tree as long sharp beaks
hammer with precise repetition in the solitude of the forest.
These two with their red-crested heads continue the hard knocks and
go on to climb higher, the noise of beaks and feet and falling
wood chips still heard in the distance as I go on towards Gazzam Lake.
We leave a few things behind
but take much away
Not material items
or memory of the best places to go
A red sunset along the Seine
that lights the buttresses
of the Notre Dame Cathedral
the walls turned crimson
Small boats pushed with long sticks
by boys at the fountain
Somber look of statues in the Louvre
seen only from the outside looking in
People wait by the glass pyramid
formations of people heavy buildings
flowing water brought together
in a still life in Paris
Cafe de Paris a quaint little space
under the shadow of the ruined fort
in Montrichard
moules and frites
in such a tasty creme
of onion and garlic
chives sprinkled over the sauce
which lies at the bottom of the bowl
salt and pepper too
sauce is trapped among the shells
some have fallen out and bathe
in the richness of this simple broth
served with baguette tre bien
In a village outside of Pont Aven we are greeted at the creperie
by the family Valmes. Mother and father, sister and her husband,
their daughter and her husband Faberce, and Danielle and Fabion.
It is a surprise to see all of the family together.
The mother and father do not speak English. The brother-in-law
is retired Royal Navy officer and he has been to New York, Los
Angeles and New Orleans. He knows some English. We talk using a
small dictionary Francais Anglais English French. He shows me
his hand that once held a lance in a war in North Africa.
I want to know more of this French war he speaks of but I do not
know the language and the little dictionary we hold will not contain
all the words needed to talk of wars and ships, the economy of
governments or imperialism in Africa.
Monsieur of Brest sits next to me eating his crepes with lanced
hands holding the knife and fork. He shows me how to eat the crepe
and recommends the saucisson campagne, the sausage of the farmer who
makes it in the countryside. He translates the phrase as sausage
of the farmer. I look to the book for a word to word translation
sausage of the countryside. With his healed hands he demonstrates
the act of the farmer stuffing sausage. We drink the cider that was
also made by a farmer from this countryside.
Here the daughter of Angeles carries on the traditional business
of her mother as her mother before her did. The batter is poured
on large flat heated plates and spread with long spatula in a circular
motion until it is amazingly thin. At just the right time it is
flipped and the egg, if an agg was ordered “crepes oeuf”, is opened
over the crepe and the egg falls in the middle. The white is spread
over the crepe until it too is very thin and the heat permeates the
crepe and cooks the egg. Cheese is sprinkled over it and then folded
from all four corners. Served fresh from this woman of the countryside.
