Writing in the Green Light

Posted on May 22, 2012 by fsdthreshold

Imagine showing up for work at 6:30 a.m., and your boss says, “It’s a beautiful spring day. Instead of working here, go get your AlphaSmart Neo, head out to a park, and spend the day writing.”

Well, that’s not exactly what my foreman said on Monday. It was actually more along the lines of telling us how a crucial belt had broken at 1:00 a.m., and the company didn’t have one to replace it, so all of us line workers would have to go home. But of course, what I heard was the gist of the first paragraph.

Frick Park, Pittsburgh

As far as I’ve been able to tell thus far, Frick is the King of Pittsburgh Parks (though, granted, I haven’t yet visited Schenley). Named for Henry Clay Frick, the park officially opened in 1927. It has expanded greatly over the years as surrounding acres were acquired. Now it’s a woodland paradise of trails for hiking and tables for writing.

Inspiring scenery abounds in Frick Park.

To reach my favorite writing place, I follow the Homewood Trail and then the Tranquil Trail.

This is near the top end of the Homewood Trail.

I’ve been to the park on weekends before and thought a Monday might be less crowded, but it was only slightly less so. It’s a popular park!

Here's my "office" in Frick Park.

This little table is just far enough off Tranquil Trail that the runners and dog-walkers aren’t passing just beside me, though dogs will often come running up to say hi — which is fine — I like dogs. One lady who talked to me called this roofed table “the Schoolhouse.” She said it was placed here by a Charter School, and the students sometimes study here. She said, “Well, you’re kind of doing schoolwork, too!”

The AlphaSmart Neo, faithful workhorse of first drafts, is pictured here laying down part of Chapter 12 of the novel-in-progress.

A good friend and fellow writer told me yesterday that he has finally joined the ranks of AlphaSmart Neo users! I’m telling you all — the Neo is unequaled!

The emerald glow of spring lights the writing spaces of Frick Park in Pittsburgh.

I stayed in the park for about five hours on Monday and turned out 1,846 words. That’s not spectacular; I was writing a slower section that’s moving into the next point of tension. But it’s spectacular for a day when I thought I’d be working the paper line at my job!

Sunlight dapples a stone wall at Frick Park.

I even had the lunch I’d packed for work!

Middle-May in the Uncanny City: not a bad season!

When I was in Frick Park on Saturday, I encountered a large black snake about three feet long. He (?) crawled across the path in front of me, coming up the hill to investigate a ditch beside the path — or maybe he was returning home from hunting downslope. I waited for him to get past. That’s the first snake I’ve seen in several years.

Can one take enough pictures of stone walls in the forest?

What you see below is what seems to be a deliberately-constructed shelter of tree limbs leaned against a tree trunk:

Who built this lean-to structure in Frick Park?

Here’s another view:

Or is it a shelter at all? Maybe it's just sticks leaned against a tree. But there is room for a smallish person to huddle inside.

Frick Park belongs on the list of Pittsburgh’s best locations. Lord willing, I hope to spend a lot of time there this summer! I’ve hardly begun to explore its miles of trails.

Frick Park, Pittsburgh

 

 

56 Responses to Writing in the Green Light

  1. I am Mr. Brown Snowflake says:

    These parks and that cemetery are driving me crazy! My old friend, you KNOW they are right up my alley! I just about ‘oooop’ at most of these pics, and I know you can imagine the scenes I see playing out in my mind when I see these shots. Wow. Inspiring indeed. I would love, love, love to see these same places in autumn and then again in winter, with just an inch or two of powdery snow on the ground. Frick Park, with two inches of powder reflecting the moonlight … gasp

    Reply
    • fsdthreshold says:

      Thank you, Mr. Brown Snowflake! I will try to post pictures of the parks in the different seasons — help me remember to do it!

      Reply
      • I am Mr. Brown Snowflake says:

        …the leaves of years rustle at my passing, and the trees bow their verdant crowns at my feet. One with Earth am I …

        Reply
    • fsdthreshold says:

      Thanks, Michelle! But you must have some gorgeous scenery in your part of the country, too!

      I’m curious as to your writing tool(s) of choice for first drafts.

      Reply
  4. Daylily says:

    What a terrific Monday you had! Thanks for sharing these beautiful pictures. I love your outdoor “office”!

    Reply
  6. fsdthreshold says:

    Joe, Frick Park is east of downtown; it’s out past Negley Avenue, Highland Avenue, etc. — I don’t know the name of the neighborhood, but the entrance I use is on Homewood Avenue.

    Reply
  7. Buurenaar says:

    I *really* need to go to Pacolet (where there is but one lonesome traffic light) and get a picture of the mysterious equestrian statue half-submerged in the water for you. My dad knows where it is. Speaking of which, my paternal unit sends his greetings and praise of “Dragonfly.” I have to read it to him, because his eyes are well…not good. However, due to the lack of progress from absence, I might skip to “Star Shard,” simply because of its brevity. He’ll love it.

    Reply
    • fsdthreshold says:

      Buurenaar, this statue sounds fascinating! I would love to see it! And I’d love to hear more about it. Is it deliberately half-submerged in water? Whom does the statue depict? What is the body of water?

      Thank you for the greetings from your dad! Surely you can’t leave him hanging on Dragonfly! Doesn’t he want to know how it comes out? I remember an elderly lady in my hometown telling me that she had to finish reading it to see if Dragonfly made it out of Harvest Moon alive. Even though Dragonfly is obviously narrating the story (and therefore must have lived), this reader wasn’t sure if she would be all right . . . I love readers like that!

      Reply
      • Marquee Movies says:

        The fact that Dragonfly is narrating the book is NO guarantee that she made it out OK. There’s a number of movies (and books, of course) that are narrated by people who, it is revealed at the end, are dead, or in some such dire place. I’ll mention only one, because it’s actually shown at the beginning that he’s dead – Sunset Boulevard. It’s a very risky thing to spring a death of the narrator or main character on an audience, but in some cases it’s a shock that was so perfectly set up that it feels like the right ending. And the narrator gets to comment on one’s own death (always interesting) and the fact that the character is dead actually creates a mini-time travel experience, where all the things he/she said in narration changes – becomes a much different sort of statement because it was said by someone who will never again walk this earth. The power to add significance to the mundane is an overlooked and undervalued one – people who appreciate the very many blessings of being alive spend their days truly awake, in total, constant amazement, as said in “Joe Vs. The Volcano.” Strange that more of us don’t look for the wonders of everyday life more often, since, as the man says, None of us are getting out of here alive.

        Reply
        • fsdthreshold says:

          Excellent point! That is true. In the case of Dragonfly, the main character makes several comments throughout the book that suggest she had a “normal” life, a life-as-we-know-it, after her Harvest Moon experiences. But yes, certainly a story can be narrated by someone who, we learn at the end, is dead.

          I also love what you say about appreciating the wonders around us each day. That’s one thing I try to dedicate this blog to doing. It’s why I can write posts about the joy to be found in sorting recycled garbage . . . or in parks, in sunlight through trees, the changing seasons . . . in setting words onto the page . . .

          Marquee, I really want to see this new film Moonrise Kingdom (or Moonlight Kingdom?). It looks like my kind of movie!

          Reply
  8. Morwenna says:

    Lovely photos, Fred. The old stonework, the winding pathways, the endless shades of
    green . . . what a perfect setting for a fantasy author’s “office.”

    Reply
  9. fsdthreshold says:

    Thank you, Morwenna! As Bilbo wrote, “In every wood, in every spring, / There is a different green.” When I first read that as a kid, I understood “spring” to mean a place where water comes out of the ground. But I think he was talking about the season . . . 🙂

    Reply
  10. fsdthreshold says:

    Adventures at Greenstar:

    1.) I was thinking that my favorite garden tool is the rake. Would love to hear opinions on this. A shovel gets you into heavy lifting — scoop and throw — heavy snow, manure, dirt . . . A hoe is bone-jarring. A broom puts a nice finish on a clean-up project, but it has no real strength. But a rake . . . a rake has TEETH. A rake slides satisfyingly over concrete or earth and puts things neatly into order. With a rake, you can dig things out of corners. You can move a mountain a little at a time. A garden rake has power; a broom rake has finesse. When we hunt for tools at the plant, I always look for a rake.

    2. Our line boss Punkin found us a good fan today, because it’s getting sweltering on the line. I don’t know where he got it — it looks new. The funny thing is, now we have to take wind currents into account when we throw things. When that fan was on, I tossed a plastic bottle at the appropriate chute, and the bottle sailed three feet over the top of it!

    3. Strange and wondrous are the paths of life. I work with a guy who used to be in the Coast Guard. I’m glad he’s backing me up on the line, scooping up the non-paper stuff I miss. We talked about how, at the moment the belt stops moving, you get disoriented; it feels like the whole world slides to the left. But I guess that’s nothing like the pitch and roll of a deck in the middle of the Atlantic.

    4. Line-picking is like Olympic volleyball. My partner Ralph was back to work today after two days away. I thought we’d lost him. When he showed up this morning, the whole day got better. (I’ve previously called him “Blue” on this blog.) On the line, when two guys know each other and work together for awhile, they become a formidable force. Ralph knows what I’m going to grab, and I know what he’s going to grab. When he goes left, I go right. When he takes the plastic, I take the cardboard that comes on its heels.

    Reply
      • fsdthreshold says:

        The belt moves from my left to my right. I think you’re asking about why the world seems to lurch to the left as the belt slows and stops. This is an interesting phenomenon, and I’d love to hear someone explain it who knows what s/he’s talking about! I think it’s almost the same thing we experience when sitting in our cars stopped at a railroad crossing, watching the train go by. Haven’t we all experienced the illusion that the train is stationary, and that we are sliding sideways?

        My explanation would be this: the brain adjusts to studying a moving surface. The belt with its trash is in constant motion. When it slows and stops, the brain is still determined that it has to be moving. Since the objects on the belt are not moving any farther to the right, the brain tries to help them get there by shifting the world to the left. The sensation only lasts for a second or less, until the brain catches up.

        Ralph stands straight across from me, facing me, so I assume the sensation is reversed for him.

        Reply
  11. Hagiograph says:

    TOTALLY UNRELATED TO WRITING OR PARKS IN PITTSBURGH WARNING: I am in Pamplona Spain this week for work and while playing turista today (not runnin with the bulls) I ran across the Ayuntamiento (city council?) building which features what appears to be the most baroque of statues of someone playing a TROMBONE I have yet seen in Europe! It is an INSPIRATION to all! And I know Fred will agree:

    https://picasaweb.google.com/101511554251686571193/Pamplona2012#5747577247402669090

    Reply
    • fsdthreshold says:

      Amazing statue! Thanks, Hagiograph! (Are you ever in the States any more?! :-)) That trombonist is so baroquely good that he only needs one hand/arm to play his horn!

      Reply
      • Hagiograph says:

        This has been my “big two weeks”. Started off in a sleepy little town in the south of the UK (Chippenham) then to Brussels now to Pamplona and then presumably off to Paris and then home. I’m taking in as many medieval things as I can! The cathedral in Pamplona is very interesting and FINALLY I have found the name “Sancho” used repeatedly with respect! (various Navarresse kings were named Sancho, like “Sancho El Fuerte”, which I think Taco Gringo in Taylorville should take as a new menu item! Then let someone from Spain come to Taylorville and see their history laid waste. Ultra tasty waste I might add!)

        Reply
        • fsdthreshold says:

          It does indeed sound like a menu item at Taco Gringo. But what exactly does “fuerte” mean in Spanish? I remember a line from our Spanish class in high school that someone’s voice was: “resonante, fuerte, como un actor del cine.” So it’s a good vocal quality, whatever it is.

          This is Italian now, but in band, I always liked it when the music told us to play something “con fuoco” — “with fire.” That’s the kind of Sancho we need . . .

          Reply
  12. jhagman says:

    I don’t know about “garden tools”, my Dad (an old cow rancher) always said “neither wisemen nor fools can live without tools”, I always repeated this to him changing “without’ to “with”. He was never amused by this, but he did raise me in Southern California. The tools he made sure I was very aquainted with are fence pliers (a very versatile tool) and posthole diggers- I’ve dug miles of postholes across 4 ranches. I guess that is why I am now a bookseller. To this day the Old Man says to me “you won’t pick up a damn tool”,,when I tell him I am the most handy person at my job, he laughs and says he feels sorry for them! Is Hagio in Spain working on their bailout?,,,I hope it isn’t the Spanish Government paying him, the check might bounce, and with things being like they are, Fred might have to find room for Hagio and Me on the “Line”!

    Reply
    • Hagiograph says:

      Posthole digging! Mrs. H and I set out to put up a fence in our backyard when we lived in Boston. Simple enough concept, except Boston area soil is glacial till. Put the post hole digger down encounter rock. Step 2 try to figure out the size of the rock by digging around the post hole hole. Step 3 widen hole to about 4 feet across to realize rock is about 3.5′ wide and your hole is only cutting halfway across the rock. Step 4 further widen hole (now easily 5X larger than the diameter of the original posthole digger tool). Step 5, put back out lifting giant rock out of hole. Step 6 put post in somewhere in center of giant hole, fill in find extra dirt to add to fill in space that was formerly giant rock

      Tools are for losers who don’t know how to use the incorrect item for any given task!

      Vive l’revolucion!

      Reply
      • Hagiograph says:

        I am not working on the Spanish bailout, although I am working on largely funding their economy through massive purchases of jamon and aqua con gas and cookies. Oh and espresso. Gotta love Spain for the espresso!

        Reply
      • jhagman says:

        Hagio-When encountering heavy rocks during your posthole excursions it is best to have a tamping bar- one of my bars was a 70 pound axel from an old wagon, you lift, and drop it straight down to breakup the rock, but some rocks (like your New England glacial rocks) laugh at a tamping bar, then you have to use a jackhammer. This is no fun! You can’t hear your stereo, and it plays hell with your head if you are hungover. Good luck supporting the Spanish economy, my European Cousins appreciate it.

        Reply
    • fsdthreshold says:

      My dad’s tool proverb was “The poor craftsman blames his tools.” Oh, I remember being fascinated with our posthole digger, too! When Dad and I would dig holes for posts, I was impressed that you could cut cleanly, straight down into the earth, and remove the dirt to leave a neat shaft. They work generally quite well in the rich, black, soft soil of Illinois. (Of course, our yard, where farms had been for generations, was full of a subsurface layer of cinders. Remember that, Hagiograph? What was it with all the cinders?)

      Reply
      • jhagman says:

        What really amuses me is the notion that a geologist would try to dig a hole in New England without dynamite. It is famous (or infamous) for being a glacial rock deposit site, there is a reason farms there are so small!

        Reply
        • fsdthreshold says:

          Here’s a cool alternate history idea: imagine that North America had been colonized and populated by Europeans by the time the Middle Ages got underway. Imagine the castles we would have now in New England, made from all those rocks! If Gimli came to Gloucester, he would certainly say, “The Earth has good bones here!”

          Reply
          • fsdthreshold says:

            Well, for my scenario to work with the Norse, they would have had to stay here, build a lot of castles, and hack out a violent but rich and colorful history from the untamed land. Any wooden mead-halls they may have built are gone now.

    • jhagman says:

      Hermano Brown, it is easy! 1 pound ground beef, 1 packet taco mix, 1 can Rosarita frijoles, 1 packet of taco shells, shredded american queso, voila! Taco Gringo! Takes about 10 minutes.

      Reply
      • fsdthreshold says:

        Anyone who has not eaten at Taco Gringo just doesn’t understand the charm. 🙂 Jhagman, NO ONE is arguing that Taco Gringo serves real Mexican food, or food that would be in any wise appealing to someone who has grown up eating real Mexican food. But Taco Gringo is Taco Gringo, and you could never get the same effect with either a kit or ingredients bought at a store.

        For example, one unique aspect of TG’s tacos is their soft, leathery quality. (These are the hard tacos.) Within minutes after the cooks assemble them, that red oil seeps out of the meat and saturates the shell. It becomes like a well-broken-in baseball mitt. When you bite into it, it retains just enough of that springy resistance, but it doesn’t fragment. The loose meat, however, bounces and rolls all over the place, and the grease and hot sauce may squirt, so be warned. The burst of flavor is only to be had at Taco Gringo!

        Reply
        • Scott says:

          TRANSLATION:
          Red oil = grease

          The greatest thing about the illegal alien problem in this country is the improvement in Mexican food (of course it’s still Tex-Mex, but it’s an improvement).

          JHagman (and the other non-central Illinois bloggers), if you want too see our signature Central Illinois dish, Google Springfield, IL Horseshoe or Central Illinois Horseshoe. It’s a culinary train wreck consisting of a base of Texas Toast, your choice of meat on top of that, a cheese sauce on top of that, and fries on the very top. The first time you see one, you will think it is the most disgusting creation ever. After you eat one, you realize that it is the most amazing culinary creation EVER!

          Reply
          • I am Mr. Brown Snowflake says:

            Mr. Brown lives in a town of 8K, of which 35-40% are Hispanic (and of that group, 50% are Mexican and the rest a mix of Hondurans and El Salvadorans … and the three cultures have VERY different foods!). I KNOW what authentic Mexican is because I have had it regularly for seven years now. I echo Fred: it is, in large part, the mockery of Mexican food that makes Taco Gringo so great. You say I rise in passionate defense of TG. True, but that is NOTHING compared to how I would defend Bill’s Toasty!

          • jhagman says:

            Since I don’t want my butt to be kicked, I won’t be insulting any “Toastys”. They sound like they would be wonderful w/ a beer and a good baseball game!

        • jhagman says:

          I enjoy mocking Taco Gringo because Senor Brown rises to a passionate defense of Central Illinois Mexican food! Very much fun to read, and yes laugh.

          Reply
          • Hagiograph says:

            I am now in Paris! Oui oui! On this trip I have seen London, now I’ve seen France, I am only missing…wait…strike that…I see my underpants now.

            While in Pamplona NOT running with the bulls I enjoyed an evening of “Pintxos” (pronounced “pinch-o’s”), it’s Basque version of Tapas. You go from pintxo bar to pintxo bar having on or two pintxo’s at each one. A pintxo is essentially any tiny small piece of food fixed and served as a single serving item. Only a coupla euro a piece.

            Tomorrow I play l’turiste in Paris. Last time I was here I did Notre Dame, a quick spin through the Louvre and the Champs Elysee all in one day (needless to say the Louvre doesn’t have enough of the surrealist or 14th century Flemish paintings I’m looking for right now, so I made the obligatory stop at the Mona Lisa and meanedered a bit and had lunch there only to discover Jesus’ mom was working the cafe! It was great! (I’m working on a book now on it)

            But since my feet literally pain me now from nearly 3 weeks in these steel toed workshoes standing around print floors and hiking about 7 miles all over Brussels one day, I think tomorrow is a two-stop via taxi day: Eiffel Tower and La Maisson du Chocolate (the latter for Mrs. H.)

            And then maybe a good coma!

            In a little bit I’ll make sure to post some pictures from the BOOK PRODUCTION LINES I’ve been working on so all you “bibliophiles” can see how books are made downstream from the digital presses. It’s pretty cool.

          • fsdthreshold says:

            Mr. Brown, I think you may have to explain to Jhagman about Bill’s Toasty. I think he has the impression that a restaurant named “Bill’s” makes something called a “Toasty” — right, Jhagman?

          • fsdthreshold says:

            That does sound very interesting, Hagiograph! THAT sounds like a production line I should be working on!

          • jhagman says:

            Fred, I thought it was a food item that you could find described in books like Roger Welsch’s :”Diggin’ In And Piggin’ Out”. In other words; you have to part of a certain crowd, and maybe a little drunk to partake of it. The company helps make the sauce.Hagio, while you are in Paris check out the Bouquinistes, they are my favorite booksellers on the Planet!

          • Hagiograph says:

            I am from Taylorville and I NEVER enjoyed the Bill’s Toasty experience. My brother was a big advocate of Bill’s Toasty and even today upon returning to T-ville he will make time to go there. It defies scientific explanation of how that places stays in business or why some people like it there. Researchers have basically written it off as unexplainable.

          • fsdthreshold says:

            I think you’re getting the picture, Jhagman, that Bill’s Toasty is the name of a “restaurant” — that is, an eating establishment. It’s quite the Taylorville landmark. I’m sure there’s a way to read all about it on-line. It’s a tiny, tiny place that seems to be contained entirely inside a brick wall just off the Taylorville Square. I have been inside it exactly one time in life, when Mr. Brown Snowflake took me there at some barely-pre-dawn hour after the afterglow after our ten-year high-school reunion. Yes, I thought it had character and charm, and the burger I had was appealing and satisfying as I would have expected.

            I wonder if the attraction of the place is that it truly does have the gumption to be open 24 hours, 7 days a week, 365.25 days a year (am I right on that fact?). Who wouldn’t love a place that’s always there for you, no matter what else the world throws at you? — a place you can walk into any time and get out of the bluster and the cold, and find a friendly soul who will pour you a cup of coffee and talk or listen, as you require . . . a person who knows and loves your town as much as you do. Is that the charm, Mr. Brown Snowflake, or is there more? I completely defer to an expert!

            Hagio, you and I were country kids. I submit that that’s why we never really got initiated into Bill’s Toasty. Did your brother find his way there during his years as a postman? That’s what I’m guessing.

            You go to Taco Gringo for fantastic, unique Midwest tacos. You go to Bill’s Toasty for Taylorville.

  14. fsdthreshold says:

    I saw my fifth Greenstar rat today! It scurried from the plant toward the trailer/outhouses/warehouse area across the open lot when the machines started for the morning, as we were getting ready to go inside. I think those rats were having a nice, long Memorial Day weekend with no guys to bother them. There are at least two Greenstar cats, just slightly bigger than the rats. One is black-and-white, and the other is a brownish gray that blends in so well to the concrete and shadowy trash bales that sometimes you can be looking right at her and not see her.

    We had a brief but violent thunderstorm this afternoon, and the power went out for about fifteen minutes. The belt stopped and the lights went out, though the fans kept running. They must have been on a different circuit. The belt started running a couple minutes before the lights came on, and we were trying to pick trash in the dark — it didn’t work very well.

    Reply
  15. fsdthreshold says:

    The forecast is for violent thunderstorms tomorrow, so things at Greenstar could get interesting to finish out the week. Will the power go out again? Will the rats become electrified? Will the trash become a horrible, soggy, unified mess that might as well not be sorted at all, but instead relabeled “turkey tetrazzini”?

    Reply
  16. jhagman says:

    If I take a fan’s pilgrimage to Taylorville, I’ll visit both Taco Gringo and Bill’s Toasty. I will bring antacids, and curse Brown Snowflake under my breath!

    Reply
  17. Monkey Business says:

    Great to see your descriptions of work at Greenstar. Makes me think of Mark Twain’s work as a riverboat pilot and Tolstoy’s work on his farm. I think it’s really useful and important for a writer to experience these sorts of things — and your descriptions really bring out the magic in what other people might see as mundane, ordinary situations.

    Reply
    • fsdthreshold says:

      Thank you, Monkey Business! It’s great to see you here on the blog!

      I think you’re right about how it’s good for writers to have the broadest experience possible. And yes, there’s probably a little of Don Quixote in most storytellers, to be able to see the magic in cavernous machine barns and ordinary rakes.

      Reply
  18. Buurenaar says:

    Really late in on this but “resonante, fuerte, como un actor del cine” literally means “resonant, strong, like an actor of the theater/film actor.”

    To understand the true meaning of fuerte, though, you have to understand a little bit of Spanish culture and history. Stoicism, as a doctrine and philosophy, originated in the Roman Empire through the philosopher Zeno and was carried into the Iberian peninsula by the conquering army. It took hold and is still an integral part of Spanish culture. The Cordoba philosopher Seneca created the Hispanic concept of “estoicismo” (stoicism) during this time.

    Fuerte is strong in a stoic sense of the word, mighty. It can refer to attitude, physical strength, emotional fortitude, or mental toughness. It implies confidence and pride (confianza y orgullo). It has a slight nod toward the concept of freedom.

    If you want to ever write about Hispanic characters, I highly recommend Carlos Fuentes’ “The Buried Mirror” (El Espejo Enterrado) as a resource. It was also made into a documentary series.

    On the subject of tacos, I had one that was a bit different in Cherokee, NC. They called it an “Indian taco.” You make fry bread and top it with a really heavy chili, normally with a slight smoked tone to it. Then you add all the fixings you normally put on your taco on it. They’re incredibly good.

    Also, if I’m ever up to visit my uncles, I know where I want to eat…

    Reply
  19. Jane DiSanto says:

    Shared this poem with my yoga class yesterday, and found your pics today (-:
    Enjoy!

    Foundation Stones

    Here is my past —
    what I’ve been proud of,
    and what I’ve pushed away.
    Today I see how each piece
    was needed, not a single
    step wasted on the way.

    Like a stone wall,
    every rock resting
    on what came before –
    no stone can be
    suspended in mid-air.

    Foundation laid by every
    act and omission,
    each decision, even
    those the mind would
    label “big mistake”.

    The things I thought
    were sins, these are as
    necessary as successes,
    each one resting on the
    surface of the last, stone
    upon stone, the fit
    particular, complete,
    the rough, uneven
    face of these rocks
    makes surprising,
    satisfying patterns
    in the sunlight.

    by Danna Faulds

    Reply

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