Friday, August 31, 2007

Wow/HolyGuac/GadZooks for since Yours Truly crept into the Canadian wilds, Blogger offers digvid posting, and how oso much easier my late-in-life-salad-days of Parsons could have been when posting to the internet those few years ago meant Sorenson 3 conversions, several messy steps, the holding of breath, and meager results.
But I digress or, rather, offshoot, when the matter at hand is this.
I have been away.
You have missed me, creeping along the internet–famished–for my Perfect takes on this world, and Yours.
One premier order of business is that YT hit upon Ryan Adams's wondrous, hermetically-Perfect pop tune Nuclear and it is so right for this weekend, as it's about the waning summer. And beyond.
His newest is good, not quite living up to the cover.
So, there YT was in Canada sans wireless or plug-in devices of any sort.
Cooking haut cuisinely on a gas stove under propane-fueled lights that give off a hiss and a light fume.
Mice romp wildly in the kitchen all night and one night, as I cooked, a smallish dark bat circled about the cabin, coming into the kitchen in a delicate arc at hip level. At one point its little wing brushed near my ear but bats don't really mean to scare people, they are far too busy and concerned with their foremost matter at hand - the decimation of the insect population and for that we should embrace them, figuratively.
At my request and behest there was a kayak, two, actually, and this created a delicious daily diversion.
It was all those campy years ago that YT fell in love with kayaking, the ability to skim low on the water and sit, when desired, in the midst of a loon's point of view of a lake. And sitting amid the gentleness of lotus flowers in bloom is always a highlight.
Yesterday I headed out solo with a backpack holding a decade-old CD player and played Coldplay's Rush of Blood as I kayaked out into whitecaps under a late afternoon sun. Heading in a straight line for I was not sure what.
Thought I'd paddle until the CD was completed but I had reached the straight line's shore end before the end. So I drifted as I listened to the final three tunes on the disc before hitting play once again and heading back to the cabin in about half the amount of tunes, singing whenever I knew the lyrics.
Kennedy watched for me on the shore, on a rock, thinking I could have been enveloped by the water.
There was only a brief flash of fear about the water, when I began to think of how powerful and relentless water is, and about the near-drowning ages ago.
There were no sightings of moose, or bears, though we all did look. A total of eight eyes saw nothing but elegant wild birds, including partridge and one kingfisher.
And a persistent woodpecker.
I did see, besides lotus, a very gorgeous orange wildflower I have to look up.
I picked up one perfect white granite square for a souvenir.
And did take a few images with the little Leica which continues to impress YT with its smart design.
There were a few short hikes with some random chomps of black bugs - the horse flies, the black flies, the moose flies.
Finished the Solid Gold Booker last choice, Middlesex, which was super. It won a big Pulitzer fercrisskes. Then started and mid-way into Hunger, a Nobel winner, fercrissakes, in '20.
I blog from the highway.
As other deep woods wildness crosses my mind again I will send those images forth, as well as a scan or two from the sketchbook (I think of the Toles correspondence), and some of the Leican shots.

Returning, Love.