September 14th 2016

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early
····Autumn—one spider’s web tangling in
········another
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A little sunshine by day’s end, after moody rain and broken clouds. There ought to be more to write about than the weather, but I never tire of the different shades each evening brings. Writing haiku has drawn my attention to every subtle change of the season’s day to day.
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I can’t decide when to mow my wildflower garden. Only the asters, little patches of Deptford Pinks, some straggling Queen Anne’s lace remains, and one or two ox eye daisies. Each wildflower takes its turn during the season, and what a pity to cut down the early Autumn’s first arrivals.
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313 September 14th 2016 | bottlecap
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3 responses

  1. Can’t resist! I woke a little early for my ride to Augusta to testify against the fourth attempt of our accident-happening of a Governor to try and foist weakened mining standards on Maine, so answering e-mails, before an earlier than usual breakfast I wrote the weather, and webs, and flowers,too. I was at a Wabanaki-sponsored Solidarity Gathering for the Standing Rock Sioux against the Bakken pipeline on Sunday from noon to 2:00 during a wild, thunder storm, wind, driving rain, and missed other people who were there. It was a great event, to turn out under extremous, as it were, but it is hard to see people under umbrellas and raingear, and wet bedraggled people aren’t always recognizable. I brought a 100 flyers with me warning about the reintroduction of the mining debacle, was going to leave them on the table for people to pick up but the downpour scotched that passive idea, and I held them in a plastic bag with my umbrella hand, folded them single handed into rough quarters with my right hand, and (did I mention I tore my Achilles tendon pretty badly a week ago?) hobbled my way working the crowd hand delivering every single one saving the last for Sherri Mitchell (the organizer of the assembly). I even wore my Sam Begay sandcast silver and turquoise squash blossom necklace. (I traded an entire Danforth Visiting Lectureship honorarium for it forty plus years ago, a multicultural expression if there ever was one; the crescent pendant comes from the Moors in Spain that was carried on the bridles of the conquistadors which the Navajo adopted as protection against the evil eye and then in the late 19th century added the blossom motif to the original silver beads as an agricultural bounty exercise.) You do what you can; the experience was truly energizing for me. Needless to say, I did forgo the march across and back across the Penobscot on two different bridges; that would have been as dumb as allowing the Bakken pipeline after scotching the Keystone. And I did garden yesterday, too, string-trimmed grass between the raised beds, harvesting a full cup (!) of poppy seed, saving the last five pods before disturbing the orb web that held those stalks loosely together.

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