Saturday, March 19, 2016

Walk it off

That little human will be nine months old pretty soon; his mother and I resumed our climbing sessions the best we could.  Her life is very busy, but she seems to have a good amount of energy most of the time.  I get tired observing, but enjoy it.
Things wind down, until they fade or stop; mental energy is hardest to generate some times. It's good to have friends and loved ones who still have the capacity to move onward in this crumbling world.

Tuesday, July 28, 2015

New humans

A dear young friend had a baby boy a month ago.  Quite an adjustment for them and for me.  She has been a faithful climbing partner for years, and I miss her company.  We hope to resume our gym sessions at least, eventually.  Hard to patch in with others...

Wednesday, March 26, 2014

Ha ha ha HA ha!

Coming home from errand walking, I heard a very loud drilling from up high on a light pole;  too loud for a flicker. It turned out to be a nice large Pileated Woodpecker, the likes of which I have only seen once in a nearby park, several times in Icicle Creek Canyon, and out on Orcas Island on the Camp Orkila property, all years ago.  Very exciting, and it is welcome to live in any of our trees.

Thursday, March 13, 2014


Despite a glitchy start to spring, the local avian denizens have been busy.  A few weeks ago I witnessed what appeared to be two hummingbirds involved in a mating dance, mid-air.  I have never seen this behavior, usually if they're near one another, they're embattled.  These two seemed to be blissfully twirling around one another.  Then there are the flickers; I love them, all their percussive drilling on metal chimney parts to attract mates, their liquid trilling calls, their strange "ooka ookas!" as they bob before prospective brides.  The bald eagles glide around one another above Green Lake and elsewhere, and there is even an occasional golden eagle hanging around by the lake.  Amazing that there is any wild life left at all in this paved over and built up area...

Monday, February 17, 2014


Saturday evening we braved the dark and stormy night to go hear the Seattle Symphony Orchestra perform.  We had front row third tier seats, which while fabulous for sound are vertiginously terrifying, as one is seperated from an untimely plunge onto patrons below by a not very high railing.  Gives a je ne sais quoi frisson to the whole experience.  We heard a piece by a French composer, Chabrier, a cello concerto by Schumann, and Symphonie Fantastique by Hector Berlioz.  The SSO conductor, one M. Ludovic Morlot - unforgettably renamed Ludicrous Merlot by one M. Beloved Spouse - has introduced several French composers to Seattle symphony goers, Chabrier among them, along with Varese, Dutillieux, and others.  The cellist playing the Shumann was wonderful, but I didn't much like the piece. Perhaps Schumann is an acquired taste.  The second half of the concert, however, was wonderful.  Berlioz, according to the program notes, was obsessed with a young actress he saw perform the role of Ophelia in Hamlet, and wrote this symphony as a result.  It was... bizarre, but amazing.  The final movement, called The Witches' Sabbath  - not sure why - was about the most rousing finale I've ever witnessed.  FOUR bassoons, nine violas, two harps, seven basses, the usual raft of violins, lots of brass, and several "skin beaters," as the beloved spouse calls percussionists. Many loaded guns, so to speak, and all went off. Absolutely gorgeous.  I feel so lucky to be able to hear such music.

Saturday, February 08, 2014

On the bus

Been taking a nearby bus up to visit my mother when I don't have a car.  The 358 runs up Aurora Avenue North to the Shoreline area. "Aurora Avenue" is a poetic-sounding moniker for a really hideous drag that goes on up to the Canadian border; it is in fact Highway 99, and runs south into California as well.  There may be more scenic stretches of 99 elsewhere. The particular stretch I have come to know rather more intimately than I would have liked serves a very desperate, vulnerable and needy population of human beings; also a goodly number of dirtbags and scoundrels, which I have no problem mentioning.  The needy range from handicapped people in wheelchairs, to elderly folks I cannot imagine managing the logistics of getting to and from the bus stops on a regular basis.  Sometimes there are parents with kids.  Often there are drunk and/or drugged out people, carrying on, transacting drug deals, menacing one another, or just generally talking shit.  One young woman was discoursing loudly the other day about a band she liked: "They're an Aryan Nation German metal band!  I just don't listen to the words, their music rocks!"  I had to get a glimpse of who would say such a thing; she was a brown-skinned Asian-looking woman wearing a furry cheetah hat.  Only in America?!
Ah, such dialog I hear on this bus;  Tarantino would be envious...

Sunday, January 05, 2014

Recovered from a pile of dead leaves

This space has been sorely neglected, left untended in a corner.  Maybe like some strange plant specimen whose dried up bulb can be re animated by a little light and water, it will shoot up out of oblivion.