Road Trip # 1

"Which of the horses

we passed yesterday whinnied

all night in my dreams?

I want that one."

from Stories from Kansas

by William Stafford

Is this the lineback dun so beloved of Louis L'Amour characters?

Trip to the cabin

"As I sit for a while after breakfast

reading a few pages

with a shadowing sense

that I am stealing the moment

from something else

that I ought to be doing

so the pleasure of stealing is part of it"

from Theft of Morning

W.S. Merwin

Our trip was good, the south is very dry however, before Kindersley we saw a white dust devil from one of the salt flats. It rained between Kindersley and Bigger which was a blessing, The young lady at the hotel told me it was the first rain they had had this spring after not much snow. The cabin came thru the winter in great shape, no mice got in. We have seen lots of ducks and I have been able to get some nice photos, a real contrast with last year when my cataracts were so bad. I have already found three ticks, one on Whateley and two on me so I will have to use lots of bug spray and keep after the grass. I am also getting a haircut.  

"All these years behind windows

With blind crosses sweeping the tables

And myself tracking over empty ground

Animals I never saw"

from The Animals

by W.S. Merwin

These are the stories the Dogs tell, when the fires burn high and the wind is from the north. Clifford Simak (City) 

            

Illustration by John Schoenherr, for Clifford Simak's "New Folks Home", 

Analog Science Fact - Science Fiction, July 1963

“I tend to be rather inconsequential and trail off.” 

Edward Gorey

I changed my coat for this?

Yesterday we dropped by CDN Tire and I picked up four 

roses. It was cold and the snow was not far behind. But

the trees are budding and this morning we are seem to be 

becalmed between the seasons.

"We live in an old chaos of the sun,
Or old dependency of day and night,
Or island solitude, unsponsored, free,
Of that wide water, inescapable.
Deer walk upon our mountains, and the quail
Whistle about us their spontaneous cries;
Sweet berries ripen in the wilderness;
And, in the isolation of the sky,"

from Sunday Morning

By Wallace Stevens