Month: June 2005

Shelley’s comment that she enjoyed seeing Washington plants got me thinking that though I have featured rhodendendrons, Washington’s state flower, I have been neglecting native plants for the sake of showier plants to be found in the Point Defiance Rose Garden, and those in the front garden of the house I recently purchased.

So, I set out to deliberately take pictures of Washington natives, as featured in the Native Garden in Point Defiance.

I was shocked when I was confronted by this 6 foot tall beauty as I entered the garden:

Know as Monkshood, it’s apparentlly a very widespread plant, one that’s infamous for its poisonous abilities.

Things are about to change around here for the next twelve days as my daughter and her husband are taking a group of students to Spain, and Leslie and I are babysitting Gavin and Lael while they’re gone.

Even though they still have daycare for most days, we will have them much of the day and full time for at least six days. I’m looking forward to extra time with them, but am also aware that taking care of two young kids can be a handful, especially when Leslie is also taking care of two other grandkids on some of those days.

I guess I’d forgotten how quickly kids’ moods change, as evidenced by these two photos:

This one is obviously a throw-a-way,

but this one, taken exactly 16 seconds later is a keeper

I’m not sure this old body is quite up to those kind of lightning-fast changes any more. I guess we’ll find out. Blogging may suffer a little, however.

Reading Robert Creeley has been an interesting experience. In a lot of ways, the immediacy of his work reminds me of the Beats. Perhaps that’s because many of his poems seem “unfinished” to me, as if somehow the reader has caught the poet in media res.

I think that’s both a weakness and a strength. There’s something powerful about feeling like you are thinking with the poet. The poem becomes a shared experience.

For instance, I can easily imagine myself thinking:

WHAT

What would it be
like walking off
by oneself down

that path in the
classic woods the light
life of breeze softness

of this early evening and
you want some time
to yourself to think

of it all again
and again an
empty ending?

In fact, I try to do this every day. It’s also the way I’d like to imagine myself leaving this plane. Fading off down the trail, again and again. Spending some time by myself, thinking. Thinking of the past. Re-exploring old thoughts from a new, older perspective.

What I miss in Creeley’s poetry, though, is the sense that these are the poet’s best, or final, thoughts on a subject. It’s fascinating seeing a poet’s rough drafts to a masterpiece, but it would be more fascinating if you’ve actually seen the masterpiece itself.