Dock Alert
Dock Alert on Issaquah is code for party, a tradition started by my friend Jim. A dock alert might begin as an email or a note on the bulletin board. Or just a couple of chairs, some beer, wine and chips. Next thing you know, others stop by and stay. Sometimes a guitar appears. Or an iPod with speakers. Someone orders pizza. The dock alert may stay small, may grow large; it may last a short while, it may go into the night. It's a dock thing. A casual community happening. A love of life. A spirit on the waterfront that, with little or no planning, but with smiles and goodwill and shared refreshments becomes an organic festive party; reminding us all that we came to the docks for beauty, but we stay for community.
Loafing
"I’ve set aside time today,
same as every day,
for doing nothing at all."
- Raymond Carver, from 'Loafing'
Pierre likes Carver, too.
waking up
Sun on the roof deck
heart coffee & chocolate cake
the morning in its youth
poetry and cats
sunglasses and tai chi
the bay shimmering
light moving
on the side of a houseboat
these reflections with no
questions inquisitions or
cameras
just me in this moment
with the old cat
whose shadow silhouette
I see and would
photograph if my camera were
here so instead I simply
enjoy this mild state
of stunning astonishment
Breakfast at Low Tide
photo by Dennis Bayer
Where Lost Keys Go
A neighbor has been away so I was watering and collecting mail for her. Then I misplaced the key to her mailbox. I looked and looked. Felt embarrassed, consulted a friend about cutting the lock and replacing it. I emailed her, she said she had a spare and would deal with it when she returned. Meanwhile, mail was piling up inside the mailbox, I could see. So yesterday I wrote a story, Where Lost Keys Go, had a little fun, but also struggled with it. Wasn’t happy with it. But I’d let the whole embarrassment-thing go and moved on, focusing on watering for her one last time before her Monday arrival. This morning I was practicing tai chi on our roof deck this morning, and in one of my moves my hand patted the buttoned pocket of a flannel shirt I hadn’t worn for a bit. Heard a subtle jingle, and well, found the key! Very happy about it. And happy that I now had an ending for my story, Where Lost Keys Go ~