Rock, Poem, Photo.

Part Two

It's time—past due, really—to create a second chapter to this blog. The way it is currently built, the Photo page takes a long time to load after several months of posting images.

So, join me for a continuation at Rock Poem Photo II.

Over

Rodeo is my backyard beach. It doesn't have the drama of Drake's Bay or Limantour, but I could go there often and not get tired of it.

Always gulls and cormorants on the offshore rocks, always a few surfers, always a beach of small pebbles and wide, wide space. I took this less for the geometry of the shadows, although I like that, than to compare with an earlier photo, a different light. Across it, bits of beauty—the little crystal bubbles I'm fond of—in the smallest finds.

Matins

I seem to be gravitating—or at least stumbling upon—poems about the garden of Eden these days. I'm not working a garden this year, just watching the one I planted in the winter bud, flower, grow high and rough.

Matins

Unreachable father, when we were first
exiled from heaven, you made
a replica, a place in one sense
different from heaven, being
designed to teach a lesson: otherwise
the same—beauty on either side, beauty
without alternative— Except
we didn't know what was the lesson. Left alone,
we exhausted each other. Years
of darkness followed; we took turns
working the garden, the first tears
fill our eyes as earth
misted with petals, some
dark red, some flesh colored—
We never thought of you
whom we were learning to worship.
We merely knew it wasn't human nature to love
only what returns love.

—from The Wild Iris, by Louise Gluck

Layers, Muscle

Short week, and feeling creatively drained. Thinking of where to go for the weekend, and considering this: the coast south of the city, near Costanoa, where Rich and DP and I went tidepooling one foggy day. I remember being amazed at this landform. I'd like to explore it more.

Done

Ha!