Neil says the heron’s cry may be the sound of the dinosaur. Early this morning the orange tabby and I watch the heron fish at low tide. Tabby watches intently, ears erect. The heron cries - a sound that splits the morning and maybe time. I sip coffee. The cat crouches in fear perhaps, faint recollection, echo of memory, the pterodactyl and tiger, & neanderthal with coffee.

Sunglasses

I have a hard time passing up the free pile at the end of our dock without at least taking a look. My daughter teases me about all the sunglasses I have.  But every pair has been found. Sometimes in the free pile. Sometimes in a shopping cart, sometimes in the trash.  That's pretty much my standard for acquiring sunglasses- not how they look on me, or if they are men's or women's, but whether or not they are free. And it's a good thing, too. Apparently, I'm hard on shades.  I break them. I've even been known to lose them. At least I think I've lost them . . . hmmm, has someone been thinning the herd?

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.

"Finish each day and be done with it. You have done what you could. Some blunders and absurdities no doubt crept in; forget them as soon as you can. Tomorrow is a new day. You shall begin it serenely and with too high a spirit to be encumbered with …

"Finish each day and be done with it. You have done what you could. Some blunders and absurdities no doubt crept in; forget them as soon as you can. Tomorrow is a new day. You shall begin it serenely and with too high a spirit to be encumbered with your old nonsense."                                  Ralph Waldo Emerson

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Shackle, Thimble, Line

These are the line lines that secure us in our berth. At low tide the lines appear out of the water, kelp and mussel shells dangling from their greenish strands. Some might find them unsightly, preferring that they stay under the surface at high tid…

These are the line lines that secure us in our berth. At low tide the lines appear out of the water, kelp and mussel shells dangling from their greenish strands. Some might find them unsightly, preferring that they stay under the surface at high tide. But I find them rather beautiful  —their design, their simple strength and technology, their patterns as they cross one another, and their vital role in holding us fast to the pilings that mark our berth which we call home.

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