Photo by Netha Hussain
Here’s what gets noticed when a person’s isn’t trying to figure out how to get an imaginary person into and out of a rental car at a diner along the highway in the Coast Range of western Oregon:
One of the yellow tulips in the blue porcelain vase droops.
The noise of the dehumidifer running in the basement, the no-frost freezer running up here.
A cat on an ottoman on a floor that isn’t level so that it rocks on the hardwood every time he shifts his weight to clean himself, or find a better position for more sleep.
A parade of water droplets along the branch of the red maple in the yard next door. I only noticed this past few days they seem to stay like that rather than falling. Is it only a matter of time, until the next wind?
Sound of garbage trucks out on the street, recycling trucks, stopping with a brake squeak to pick up paper, cans, glass bottles. Train horns, more motors, more brakes.
A woman in a yellow puffy jacket that’s tight at her waist and big sunglasses even though there’s no sun walks by with a black Lab, en route to Alberta Park where there’s an off-leash area.
The orange fire hydrant on the corner and the way it stands out, vivid color alongside the green, green grass.
Interests: Reading, writing, not arithmetic. The art and craft of poetry. Photography. Vegetable and flower gardening especially heirloom bulbs and dahlias. Movies in real theatres. Theatre on real stages. Art in real galleries. Crossword puzzles and, of course, Wordle. Singer-songwriters like Aimee Mann and Patti Griffin. All kinds of music especially 1930s jazz. Venice, Italy! The Dude abides.
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