A parrot of irritation sits
on my shoulder, pecks
at my head, ruffling his feathers
in my ear. He repeats
everything I say, like a child
trying to irritate the parent.
Too much to do today: the dracena
that’s outgrown its pot, a mountain
of bills to pay and nothing in the house
to eat. Too many clothes need washing
and the dog needs his shots.
It just goes on and on, I say
to myself, no one around, and catch
myself saying it, a ball hit so straight
to your glove you’d have to be
blind not to catch it. And of course
I hope it does go on and on
forever, the little pain,
the little pleasure, the sun
a blood orange in the sky, the sky
parrot blue and the day
unfolding like a bird slowly
spreading its wings, though I know,
saying it, that it won’t.
It sounds familiar, doesn't it? Too many things to do. A couple of weeks ago, our dog needed his shots, so that line made me smile.
One morning I walked into the kitchen right after Chloe had gone off to school. And the light was as in the first couple of pictures. The school fees form sitting there with a cheque on top, the vitamins I hadn't been able to choke down at breakfast and thought I'd try later. A couple of magazines I hadn't quite finished leafing through.
Later in the day, the light looks like this. The dog wants in, and out, over and over.
The flowers are an assortment from my garden and my parents' garden. Rob has taken photos of most of them for his paintings.
Outside, the slow decline. Soon we'll be putting away the garden pots, and cleaning up leaves.
The apples are really small this year, likely because we never got around to pruning the tree last year.
The red of the prayer flag, seems to echo the red of the apples.
And lastly, the spider web I found one evening in the apple tree, as the sun lowered itself, earlier all the time.
These observances, these psychedelic bursts of unexpected beauty, tenacious beauty, hiding in the apple tree, are what balance out the rest, most days.
The bills and the worries and the question, what's for dinner?, go on and on, as Susan Wood says. But so does this. And yes, let's hope it all continues.