four turtles

heads stretched up
four turtles bask
on a log

unseasonable autumn

final tree frogs bask

unseasonable autumn

weather calls us out

before winter comes

October whirls by

adolescent beavers play

before winter comes

the poem about the dead deer (attempt 18?)

ruin of Monday morning first
day of autumn weather doe curled
impossibly graceful dead with
startling boneless acceptance
that only the shattered display

nightmare dogs of sleeplessness

At night

the light

from 

unevenly

spaced poles

can make 

even Tiny

Adorable

Dog into a

terrifying

creature of

nightmare

moving too

low to the 

ground with 

far too 

many 

legs and

its usual

silence so

endearing

in daylight

leaving me

jolted

breathless

with fear

clutching

my mail

and frayed

self-possession.

TAI - > TAD

What is it about just knowing

that Tiny Adorable Illegal Dog

is not, in fact, actually illegal,

that makes me want to cuddle

and pet it even more despite 

the fact that legality 

has nothing to do

with allergies

?

TAI and Bujold's new story

When I staggered out of bed this morning like a tremendously clumsy yeti, TinyAdorableIllegal Dog (TAI for short from henceforth) was whimpering fit to break your heart.  He was so loud that I could clearly hear him from my second floor condo with two doors in between us.  The sound was so pitiful that I nearly flung open the door to see if it was dying.  Then I remembered that I was not clothed for company and that I can't see a darned thing without corrective lenses.  I lumbered away from the sound and into the bathroom.  I have no idea what caused TAI to make that sound, but I hope it never happens again because I will cry.

The day ended sort of better.  I was donating plasma to get money to pay for my allergy meds, and I was reading the new novella by Lois McMaster Bujold, and I was just having a grand time.  (Not with the donating because DudeBro put the needle in kind of wrong, so it hurt a bit more than usual and was kind of bleeding.)  I was just giggling and occasionally snorting and grinning my face off because LOIS MCMASTER BUJOLD NEW STORY YAAAAAAYYYYY!!!!!!!  It's in the 5 Gods world, and it's great, and I've barely started it, really.

Actually, I have no idea how close I am to the end.  I want it to go on and on and on and never end as I often do when I read Bujold's stuff.  I hope it at least gets me through one more donation.  Two more to go before I can afford both allergy meds!  Wish me luck!  (And health and copious plasma.)

first tree frog fairy sighting

Yesterday was the first day
I spotted a tree frog  clinging
to the third story window.

I was afraid they were not
coming this year, since I
had not seen any in June.

Maybe they come this late
every year with the cicadas,

and, like everything else
these days, I just forgot.

It's good to see them again
this year always every time.

before the snow

leaf shadows
and raccoon
paw prints
criss-cross
the sidewalk
until I can't
tell one from
the other

last month's dubious omens

Dead fox
Rotting crane
Gleaming dragonflies
This summer's omens?

The trouble with nature

So.  Bugs.  Summer.  I understand that the poor things don't get to move much for about half of the year, so I understand why they would just want to crawl all over the place when they can, but why do they like crawling all over me so much? 

When I can, I bike to a park with my blanket, notebook, and books.  I spread out the blanket and plop myself down and immediately become the Most Engrossing Thing Ever to the insects and arachnids in the area.  These guys love me.  They can't get enough of me.  It's kind of crazymaking.

I imagine this is what would happen if I went to a cat show.  I am very allergic to cats, and they just love me!  I don't make eye contact and, a cat-lover explained that I am mysterious and interesting to them. 

Perhaps I need to practice making eye contact with insects and arachnids.  Do I have to make contact with all their eyes?  That could be . . . difficult. 

I just want to enjoy nature, listen to the wind and the birds, read my book, be a sun camel, try not to smell the nearly stagnant river water, avoid getting hit in the head by those kids and their soccer ball, and relax.  I want to commune with nature, dagnabbit! 

Unfortunately, nature feels the same way.  And so we commune: nature walking all over me, me swatting nature or brushing it off without killing it.  It is not exactly relaxing, but there is definitely communing.  Sigh . . . 

Sometimes, when the book is really good, I don't even notice.

eloquent roadkill

roadkill indicates
today is not a good day
to be a turtle

These Three (4)

.
riding my bike as
evening falls if
I had stopped before

when I wanted to
(too early)
I would not have seen

doe and two fauns
these three
and so . . .
.

Toad Herding for Fun and Profit

Yesterday night, my flimsy building key stopped working, and I was locked out of my apartment.  This was a bummer because I live alone and had no one to call and let me in at 10 pm. 

This morning, I called to arrange for a new key, and we agreed it could be shoved under my garage door, though the trauma of smashing the crap out of my finger in said door on Saturday was fresh in my mind. 

I got home and opened the garage door, looking for my ticket into the building, and a mid-sized toad hopped in and promptly got itself stuck thinking there was No Escape even though three directions were open to it.  It kept hopping further and further along the wall when it wasn't playing the If I Don't Move the Large Thing Menacing Me Will Forget I'm Here and Go Away and Leave Me in Peace game.   

I suspect that toads are not one of the brightest species in the ecosystem. 

There was no way I was going to just close the door and let the thing die and stink up my garage.  I tried to gently herd it out, and it just wasn't working until a lady walked by and, attracted by the sound of a possibly crazy person waving her hands and cell phone at the ground and trying to be some sort of toad whisperer, stopped to get a better look. 

I explained my problem.  She laughed at me as I kept trying to humanely get rid of my newly acquired amphibian, but she eventually got fed up and whacked that sucker back out into the driveway with a hand like a trowel. 

I was horrified as I watched it tumble and come to a dusty and very final stop, sure she'd killed the silly thing whose only crime was being stupid and confused.  After heart-stopping seconds of being stunned, it rolled over.

"It's alive!" I thought and rejoiced until it hopped toward my garage.  I stomped and waved it away and closed the door before any more drama or trauma ensued.  The woman walked away laughing as I thanked her.

I watched the toad as, at a loss, it headed back out into the middle of the parking lot where it hopped in strange, possibly concussed polyhedrons for a while, despite my encouragement to get out of the place where cars go.  I washed my hands of him eventually, as he seemed destined to end up flattened by someone's tire.

Good night, sweet toad.  May flights of angels sing thee to they rest.  One way or another.

my perfect Saturday in October

I saw a fox today. 

It wasn't in my plans--as I made them Friday night--for my perfect Saturday in October.

• Get up on time.
• Do some grading.
• Exercise.
• Do some grading.
• Lay outside reading The Left Hand of Darkness in the bright, approaching 80 degrees sunshine.
• Do some grading.
• Clean.
• Do some grading.
• Go to bed early.

Instead, my acupuncture lady called as I was grading Friday night to ask if I could move our appointment to Saturday morning, and I said yes, grumbling a little because it was wrecking my perfect Saturday plans.

On the way to her house, I drove on that winding, riverside road, and the trees
I can't tell you how beautiful they were
I'd never seen them like that before
not in the morning
not in the fall
not with my silly prescription sunglasses that make everything red look like it's on fire
and some of those maples have turned all to fire

And then, on my way back home, an honest to goodness fox streaked across the lawn and across the road in front of me and into the fiery brush by the river, and I don't know if it was a red fox, but my glasses made it look like the thing was a long, lithe streak of fire, and I thought, what is a fox doing around here? 

And I thought, thank you God for a fox around here. 

And I thought, even if I don't get my grading or cleaning done, even if I have a gash on my shin from running into something stupid last night when I lost my balance, even if I still don't get much sleep tonight, even if I don't do anything else on my list, this was a perfect Saturday in October, and 
I couldn't possibly ask for more.

Drive with us (verrrrryyy slooooooowlyyy)

On the river parkway, I saw a raccoon trying desperately to stuff itself down a storm drain to avoid the early evening traffic "speeding" toward it.  I was part of a parade at the time, you know, the sort where one car's driver sees the 25 miles per hour speed limit sign and becomes convinced that if he or she approaches within 10 miles of the speed limit (as in, 15 m.p.h), his or her car will explode or be strafed by speeding cop firebombs or suddenly find that part of the road turns 90 degrees or something.

I started humming the theme song to The Racoons.  Did they ever release that cartoon on DVD?  Yes, yes they did, and I am not going to pay that much for a used copy, holy moly.  Maybe this is a job for Netflix.

It had the most ridiculous and awesome ending theme song.  It was called "Run with Us."  I bet the raccoon could have run with us and kept up.  It really had nothing to fear as we all drove at a leisurely pace all along the river road for five miles, trapped behind the parade leader, unable to get to our destinations by any alternate route.

At least it wasn't a bicycle rider this time.

See?  I can think positive.  :)