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  • Writer's pictureSam Baker

as if melted...

Journal: May 5,2020

The light is beautiful today. Flat and silver. The wind is diffident- mostly from the south but undecided. . Up down sideways not really a direction. No hard light no clear sunlight. On top of this sky are heavy gray clouds. they move south. then turn south west above the shifting wind. Beneath the heavy gray there is a color band- a foundation of light gray, yellow, with slight orange below. All moving. All changing. The light on the river is pure silver. As if melted in a giant foundry sluicing to the gulf. Pure silver about to be molded.

The mocking bird is the most insistent singer this morning. One song after another. The soprano in the sunrise bird choir. The soloist.

There are no birds at the feeder. Not one. There is no movement in the sky. Or in the leaves of the mesquite trees.

It doesn't feel like rain. It feels like the sky is thinking about rain. Contemplating rain. It is the thought of rain. Like a limbering up. A stretching. Like a brush person sharpening her chainsaw with a 5/8 file. correct angle. 4 strokes. Or just a morning of restless preparing with something entirely different in mind.

The river moves. The mesquite leaves and limbs move. Water drips in the pan where the birds bathe. The wire grass that chokes the weed eater sway but only a few stalks are susceptible. .

These few stalks- they are like the solo sand hill cranes that begin to dance at Socorro before all other's dance.

An unpredictable dance. Full of joy and hope. The dance that electrifies.

(note to self- do a painting series on the dancing cranes)

The heavy gray clouds move lower. Descending slow but without hesitation. The are torn and brown on the edges. Extinguishing the yellow and orange.

The rive has turned flat gray. A mechanical gray. Bits of green on the far shore but mostly flat gray metal.

The wind has decided. It turns like calvary. comes from the north. Clear. steady

The world restarts. Cardinals return. Red Wing Blackbirds return. Sparrows. One skittish squirrel.

The feeder is hopping.

And I- I get another cup of coffee.


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