The Wandering Mind

Have you ever noticed that some activities free your mind to wander and ponder and go thither and yon?  For me these activities are listening to classical music (especially chamber music) in a concert hall and working out in my aerobics class.  One activity is basically passive (the concert) and the other involves some jumping around, but the effect on me is the same.  The only constant is music; because of course we do aerobics and lift weights to music. 

In my aerobics class I always get good ideas for my writing, and sometimes even a solution to a thorny problem will pop right into my head while we’re “scooping” or doing the “grape vine.” 

When I debugged computer programs, taking a shower frequently moistened the mind as well as the body.  Taking a walk is good, too.  One of the best things about Nantucket was being carless all week.  We even stopped renting bikes and just walked everywhere except when we caught the beach bus.  Walking is done in human time. 

Writing has to take a hiatus when the holidays are here and the house is full of guests, and now my tasks are done and it’s back to the manuscript again.  A few ideas have percolated up during the break.  A writer is ALWAYS writing even if she is driving along a country road or watching the birds pecking for seed in the snow.  Or peeling carrots.  Or . . . Or . . . Or . . . Writing is like breathing.  Even when you’re  on autopilot. Especially when you're on autopilot.

The cats have had two days of excellent bird watching.  Thisbe flattens herself against the living room rug when the juncos and doves eat on the deck.  I see that we still have the pretty little song (?) sparrow that was here last winter.  Or is he a marsh sparrow?  They all look alike, and by the time I drag out the bird book and find “sparrows,” he is gone. 

We also have a handsome flicker and a trio (ménage a trois) of doves who were also around last winter.  I have cracked corn for the wild turkeys but haven’t seen any.  At Glue Factory Pond (quaint name, yes?) there are no birds this winter.  The white geese vanished, and now the ducks and even the seagulls are gone, as are even the Canadian geese and they never leave. 

Winter has us in its grip, but the mind is not housebound and ranges far and wide.  I hope you are snug and warm and even a bit plump for the cold months ahead.

Grapeshot

Love in Bloom on Glue Factory Pond

Glue Factory Pond!   Now, isn't that a name to conjure with?  It's in Foxborough, and quite scenic, surrounded by grass and bushes and bisected by a local road.  There is indeed an old glue factory which has been turned into small businesses.  People fish in the pond, and there's always a contingent of Canadian geese about.  There were white geese, a threesome for the longest time.  Babies would come in the spring, and usually disappear.  Last year ALL the white geese disappeared.  Gone!  A fox?  A coyote?  Man?

Of course, this is a question that will never be answered, which does not stop me from brooding and wondering.  This year a swan appeared, but there was no way to tell him/her to fly to the Audubon preserve in Norfolk, where an equally lone swan swam.  A week ago, a second swan appeared.  Big excitement, and then I only saw one again.  Today, they were both there and seem to have bonded.  Hanging out, eating swan food from the bottom of the pond (with white butt in air) and there were some ducks and some Canada geese, so life was good on Glue Factory Pond.  In the winter there are seagulls.

In spite of the most unpoetic name, Glue Factory Pond is a pretty cool place.

We saw the ducks in the slough again, and the frog chorus is loud and insistent, singing in the evening hours.  I've seen a few birds after the terror of the hawk.  Even heard the dove, whom I was sure would be a goner.  Hope the hawk is gone.  I love my little flock of birdies.

Everything broke into bloom at once, and the world is beautiful.  The swans would agree.

Cheers!

Grapeshot

The Big Birthday

Here we are in Boston on our "Staycation." Note the words "stay" and "cat." We stayed home for the kitties, who had enough trauma for one week with Annie's seizure. They seem to be back to normal.

Yesterday we viewed the Titian, Veronese, and Tintoretto exhibit at the MFA, then had a lovely if expensive brunch in the main dining room. Obviously one pays for the live music, the luxurious banquettes, the serenity and the garden view. But nice. I think I liked Tintoretto best. Always a soft heart for rebels.

I got a Kindle which has provided awe that one small device could be so cool. I've always wanted an e-book reader ever since I first pubished the Shadow Warriors as an e-book, or rather RFI West did. I am still getting used to it. Downloaded a Josephine Tey book first as a great price.

About the birds there is the following to say: they are scarce, and I hope it's because they are feasting on those $#**!$ inch worms. The goldfinches are at the thistle seed feeder in force, and yesterday with three males, there were a lot of fights. The hummingbird is back at her feeder, so sweet. Sometimes I spy her in the tree. We finally saw a chipmunk. Something decimated them over the winter.

Carnage on Cocasset Street. Hope it wasn't the neighborhood fox. And the white geese are missing from Glue Factory Pond. I know. Horrible name. Whatchagonna do? I carry all the wildlife worries in my breast.

The beets and the spinach have been transplanted to their proper homes, and now the garden is officially "ready." We will still get a bag of impatiens tomorrow. Lots of work and many tasks this year.

How about that orange rhoddy? I am the proud mom.

Grapeshot