Observation – April 5th, 2020, Sunday

The house smells of peppers

And garlic and onions

The rising sun lights up the sky

Soft blue, almost white

The street is quiet, quieter than usual

So quiet I can hear the gears turning

In the empty bus that rolls by

The birds have noticed the change

The fox and the coyote too

There are fewer people to contend with

Fewer cars and people walking

Fewer things to fear

Observation – December 4th, 2019, Wednesday

The sun is shining

The snow is already melting in the light

It is warm this December morning

Everything is blurry outside my window

My eyes are still adjusting to the surgery I had

I can hear the spray from the tires of the cars passing by

Dirty-gray slush and salt covering the street

There is ice on the road and it is slippery

There is not a cloud in the sky

Only jets leaving contrails

And black-birds in flight

Observation – June 3rd, 2018, Sunday



The Twins are tied in the bottom of the eighth


I can smell the cut grass through the open window


My lady is out front pushing the mower


I can hear it rattle, in a rhythm with my typing


The hum of traffic flowing by on Bryant


Kitty is on her bench looking at the action


The Twins exit the eighth without advancing


The sun is bright and the air is cool, afternoon


When I was a child Easter always came in conjunction with a week off from school, Spring Break.

Spring Break always came with Eastertide, but in the public schools were not allowed to call it Easter Break, on account of the separation between church and state. I am not sure when it happened, but at some point those conventions began to change, school boards stopped planning the spring break to coincide with Easter.

Perhaps this was due to a sensitivity to such constitutionally required separations, or maybe it was just because the Easter festivities follow an erratic cycle. It is our lunar holiday.

Easter, like Passover, follows Selene, the wandering Titaness, the silvery-moon.

Sometimes Easter comes as late as my birthday, April 22nd, Earth Day, other times it is as early as my sister Raney’s birthday, March 28th. In those years, when we were growing up we were able to experience the sense of being overlooked that other kids feel whose birthdays fall on holidays like Christmas or New Year’s Eve, Thanksgiving or Halloween.

In one sense Easter is about the palette of pastels, the donning of spring garments, the greening lawns and budding trees. It is about hard-boiled eggs died and hidden, and it is about jelly beans, chocolates and other candies.

There is an Easter feast, ham being the most common thing on the Easter table.

For many people Easter has little to do with the commemoration of the risen Christ, which is at the root of the holiday. Jesus, the new lawgiver leading the people to a new promised land.

When we were young we would always watch the Cecil B. De Mill epic, The Ten Commandments, featuring Charleton Heston as Moses, leading the people from bondage.

It was a tradition that more clearly connected the Christian holiday to the Jewish Passover than any sermon I ever heard in church.

My family did not go to church on Easter, we hardly ever went to church at all.

For many folks, Easter marks the equinox, a celebration of the change in the light, from the dark days of winter, to the brightening of the day. Whereas at solstice in winter we celebrate the lengthening of the day and the light’s return, at the equinox in spring we celebrate the rising of the sun’s arch, the increased warmth, and the thawing of the fields.

Easter and the equinox are slightly out of step, but the spring ritual is the same nevertheless.

Easter is a celebration of the risen Christ, it is a celebration of the power of life, over death the expectation of summer, planting and hope for the future.


Observation – June 2nd, 2017, Friday


The morning sun is streaming in through my kitchen window


Reflecting off a stack of boxes against my book case


The morning sun is bright, and flashing


The day promises to be sunny hot


There is a for sign in the yard next to the sidewalk


It says for sale


I anticipate the footfall of strangers


Walking through my domicile


There are transition coming, I can see them


My cat is sleeping blissfully






November 1st, 2016, Tuesday – Observation



It is morning. Dark in Autumn.


The house is stirring.


I hear the creaking of footsteps on the floor boards above me.


The news anchors chattering on the T.V.


There is one week to go before the election, a new president. There is fear, and uncertainty in the country.


She and I are talking about our changing lives.


She talks just as much to me, as to the cat, sitting behind me on the blanket on the chair.


Outside, the maples have dropped their leaves, a bright yellow carpet laid over the yard.


Today the sun is promised.

October 1st, 2016, Saturday



It is noon, the autumn sun is bright,


And silver.


My cat is sitting on her blanket in the window;


Soaking the soft light into her soft tawny fur.


The news talkers are chattering as I type;


Trump, trumpet, strumpet, hype.


I am tired; from three weeks straight of working.


My sweetheart is in the garden; weeding.


I hear her talking with neighbors as they stroll by.



Observation – June 1st, Wednesday, 2016


The sun has come up.

She is sleeping. Her head on the pillow; a soft copper cloud.

There are birds singing in the morning light, in hushed tones; a whisper of whistles.

The rabbits are gathered on the lawn, pushing their noses through the Creeping Charlie.

Foraging, at the dawn; the metal scrappers push carts down the alley, in a jangle and clattering song.