Monday, December 22, 2014

και εγενετο

and it came to pass

Wunderlich, 55F, quiet and Gevalia this morning. Keurig because Joe is here, his bedroom is downstairs, coffee grinding in my magic machine might wake him. Joe’s going on our walk with Robert and me this morning in a bit of the Cove neighborhood where I grew up. Same but more docks and boats in Massalina Bayou. 

Oh, all dirt roads maintained by the city’s Caterpillar tractor, looked like this,
 covered air-conditioned cab, get serious. Roads were scraped maybe once a week. Its diesel engine could be heard growling its way round Massalina Bayou and we might run down to the lower part of the front yard and watch. Rounded at Hamilton and it came to pass in front of our houses, Waterfield, Sheffield, Guy, Weller, Moore... In the latter years the only thing paved was a couple of driveways, ours and the Sheffield’s, not solid just twin paved ruts, I remember when my father laid out the framing and did the paving himself, dig rectangles, 1x4 framing, gravel, mix and pour concrete with gravel, keep off of it. Before that it was oyster shells, which crunched as a car came up the hill. That may be before my brother and sister remember.    

On my computer desktop, a satellite globe showing darkness with lighted cities, line of the sun’s light moving east to west, a blue dot on my house. Speck on a speck here in our solar system of our MilkyWay galaxy. 

Pinched online, I like Sean Parker’s photo of the MilkyWay arched over an old windmill somewhere in Arizona. That would be the same sky, eh, where a multitude of angels hovered in the sky over shepherds in the field keeping watch over their flock by night.

και εγενετο


more stunning, tks, Sean Parker:

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