Three days now, I’ve been deactivated on the most popular social media website since sliced bread. I document my father’s music in the hours I might have wasted on early mornings, while drinking my coffee. I listen to Chris de Burgh music on Youtube as background, while reading Al Purdy poetry. His words make me weep at times. I would have posted that on Facebook.
I imagine filling in that small space…I don’t even remember what the prompt was? Say something about yourself…or what you are doing…what came to be known as a status update.
I would probably post a link to this post. As a way of weening myself from the process, I thought to update my status here…what would I say?
July 5, 2016 A dark cloud fell upon me when, from no where, a friend invited me to go chase dark clouds. He parked his car across the street and magically appeared when I needed a friend.
July 6, 2016 My hair was dirty, so I didn’t join my girlfriends for a night of listening to live music. I didn’t paint at Rumble House, again. I read Al Purdy poetry and used a sock as a place-saver.
July 7, 2016 I feel sad that I’m seeing the changes in the pond, all on my own, and that no one else sees exactly what I see. Mr. and Mrs. Sparrow are trying to raise another family in the neighbour’s vent. I relent and put seed in the feeder that I had pulled out of service because of the growing population of voles. But, now, with the children’s incessant cry for sustenance, I give in.
July 10, 2016 What does it mean that I have 13 hits on my blog from Macau SAR China, today? Some times these connections, through writing, just surprise me.
Yesterday’s photographs…documentation of train graffiti, imagining that the artist would want to know where his art had traveled.
I like that the red-winged black bird made it into this shot…
It’s been wonderful to see the great Cormorants coming through. They are closer to the river…this, a lone female.
Mama Savannah Sparrow watching out for her young sprout…
Youngster…sitting a short distance from Mom…about half her size.
My partner in crime.
A herd of 20 geese, four adults and the rest, progeny, slip into the water as Max and I tippy toe through the goose poo.