UD leaves tomorrow for her house in upstate New York. I’m not kidding when I tell you that this house is back of beyond. No internet connection, for instance.
I will therefore probably post every other day. Maybe more often, but probably around every other day.
Means of connection: Mr UD and I will drive down a series of steep dirt roads to a hot spot in Cobleskill, the closest town.
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Meanwhile, as we say farewell to Garrett Park, here’s a poem about what we’re leaving. A poem about a typical morning around these parts, late summer.
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AUGUST, ‘THESDA
Morning starts with the sound of a train.
I open my bedside laptop to see
If, after last night’s stupendous rain,
We’ve been reconnected to electricity.
Yes! New comments, new mail…
I glance beyond the sliding doors
To gauge how badly the gale
Has shaken the trees. More
Branches, limbs, and twigs to gather.
I sigh, get up, let out the dog, and go
To the kitchen to microwave a rather
Agèd cup of tea, and also
A plate of olive oil.
I toast tandoori naan
And dip it, soft and hot, into the oil.
Now I catch sight of a white-spotted fawn
Which stares at me and seems to linger.
I give it the finger.