6:29 |
6:35 |
8:12 |
Kayaking Snug Harbor Swamp |
Unidentifiable Birds? Any Thoughts |
Water Lily |
Water Lily And Its Reflection |
Around 2:30, I took my bike to Jamestown, parked it next to the Lakeview Cemetery and went for a ride, through the cemetery, a beautiful place, filled with trees and lots of shade, then the neighborhood surrounding it. It's a slowly degrading area, like much of Jamestown, but it's also peopled with some amazing houses, what's left of a prosperous Jamestown. It's sad to see a well kept home sitting next to a home that's been abandoned. I rode for about forty five minutes then drove home through Lakewood, stopping at Sam's Club to pick up dinner, salmon and spinach.
Around 5:30, we went out on the dock with a libation and enjoyed the end of the day on the lake. We never get tired of sitting on the dock and enjoying the ever changing sky, the clouds, and the colors of the lake. And the lake traffic, if any, always settles down about this time. Around 6:30, we went in and Evie broiled the salmon, sauteed the spinach, cooked the rice and made a salad, while I watched and did some dishes. We also watched the first episode of the last week of The Daily Show with Jon Stewart. It's amazing the press his show is getting; one of the headlines reads "Farewell To The Last Honest Newsman". The critics are suggesting that he's changed the way we see the news, that he's a iconoclast, which I suppose, is true. This apotheosis, however, is getting a bit too much, at least to me. It's like everyone is jumping on the bandwagon the last few months. We have been watching him now for close to 15 years. Where were these pundits five, ten, fifteen years ago?
We then watched Masters of Sex, not as compelling as the first years, some junk TV, then went upstairs to read. I was tired from both a long kayak paddle and a bike ride. O, yea, I did swim, too, about ten yards.
Here's today's poem from The Writer's Almanac which, if you read my blog, with its numerous photographs, struck a chord of awareness Enjoy.
The Vacation
Once there was a man who filmed his vacation.
He went flying down the river in his boat
with his video camera to his eye, making
a moving picture of the moving river
upon which his sleek boat moved swiftly
toward the end of his vacation. He showed
his vacation to his camera, which pictured it,
preserving it forever: the river, the trees,
the sky, the light, the bow of his rushing boat
behind which he stood with his camera
preserving his vacation even as he was having it
so that after he had had it he would still
have it. It would be there. With a flick
of a switch, there it would be. But he
would not be in it. He would never be in it.
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