moving rowing peapod boat across harbor

Things are moving. 

Coming things brush by going things.

So much. To do. So little interest

In not doing

any of it

What are we, saying

embodying the dwelling place of the
Alone;

stepping aside to make room for 

Another

electricity, given connectivity, returns

Rain.

Falls heavily.

Not snow.

votes are in. (sigh)

Snow melts. Trees at corner of house continue to be chainsawed. Body tired. Pain in head. Tom Magliozzi dies. (The laughing spirit of click and clack and Car Talk. That’s notably sad.)

Generator fuel has not run out yet. No electricity yet.

Yawns through the room. Hard work all day.

Pizza box on center island.

One day, they say, all pain will end.

Election was painful. The Supreme Court and Citizens United money took the election to new distance from ordinary people. Democracy, sorry Leonard Cohen, is leaving the USA.

There’s got to be a better way.

What would that way be?

what do I pray for

A curious effect -- the more negativity I am exposed to, the more positive I become. It's not a virtue. It's a balancing of affect.

To be positive is to acknowledge that what is occurring is indeed occurring -- without commentary or opinion. 

It is what we have to look at. What we have to face. No conspiracy. No oppressive victimology. Just...there.

A sixth person dies in hospital from awful fire in Portland the other day. Two fishermen are lost at sea when their boat sinks. This is what is real. Not the results of political elections.

In four hours I will stoke the wood stove.

For now, I pray.

after storm

Work all day carrying cedar limbs to edge of property. Hibernian with chainsaw sculpts by eliminating branch by branch felled tree atop telephone and power line. 

Candlelight potatoes,sausage, and mushroom pie.

Moonlight on white snow without electricity.

There's a simplicity to hard work and good fare.

I will stoke the fire through the night.

All Souls, say, wind and snow

In the afternoon of All Souls the 50mph gusts joined with the foot of wet heavy snow to split and fell the over-150yr cedar tree at northeast corner of house. It fell in three directions -- a triangle splaying out across driveway, gateway, and roadside front. Our shaded privacy from Barnestown Road is gone. Moreso, our twenty-two year friendship with that dear tree now enters new rites of departure.

The thin place between those living-seen and those living-but-unseen is at its thinnest.

We look across and between.

Wondering.