Crush by Richard Siken came and I'm really enjoying the rhythms, the visceral nature, the whole thing. I can't even quote anything, it's all too good to choose.
The green frog made his first appearance for the season in my backyard pond last Friday. He is banjoing away, but so far has only attracted Pearl cat.
The robin is still sitting on her nest, despite winds that are swaying the tree. I wish I could do something for her, but she chose that tree.
Bird watching - one heron down by Baugo Creek.
More nature - two muskrats in the creek and some sort of small rodent-like critter rolling incoherently on the path. I tried to talk him into straightening up and running off into the woods, but he was not going for it. I said okay, but the woods is much safer for rolling around in than the path, you might get stepped on, but no one listens to me.
Picked up Gene from the airport around midnight. The interviews went well. However, whoever invented traffic circles, and then decided to put them by the airport, should be sent straight to hell. I did get in a practice run on Saturday in the daylight when I dropped him off, so I didn't screw up, but I still don't like them.
Paths - got lost in the woods, briefly, by straying from the stream, getting turned around, disoriented. Once I found my way, however, I looked around and memorized a few important trees. Amazingly enough there are a few paths I still haven't checked out in my tiny little woods.
Pears - frosted, gone, zilch. Sour cherries, ripe and ready in a week. Gene is depressed, loves pears, hates sour cherries.