kayaking & crabapples

Since I had an apppointment in Madrid this morning, I decided to arrive early enough to kayak the Grasse River. Today is the first of September! I decide to take advantage of every chance to experience the water.
I am usually the lone paddler on the Grasse River, and the lack of water-traffic amazes me. What a lonely, wild, sweet stretch of highway! Maybe it is not so much a secret to be kept, but only a privilege that preoccupied people don't care to cash in on. Poor people. Happy me.
A few bends past the railroad bridge and I am lost in my own world of willow, cattail, river, and sky. I gratefully tank up on tranquility, knowing that I can draw from the reserve throughout a bustling day.


Words come slowly to me tonight. Either I have nothing to say, or what I have to say is too submerged to be drawn to the surface. Maybe my words are like the crabapple mash that is dripping over a porcelain bowl on the kitchen table: too thick to be distilled. The tart liquid that eventually is extracted will be boiled with sugar and poured into rippled glass jars. But that's tomorrow's doings.

Stay tuned for the results.