Bass Boats Arising

6:12

8:51

It's 8:50 on a busy lake, with a partly cloudy sky.  I was awakened at 6:00 by bass boats roaring out of the marina as the summer bass tournaments begin.  I was out kayaking for close to an hour and a half, down to Tom's Point and back.  I saw a pair of herons on the southeast side of Tom's Point, an eagle on the northwest side, a good morning,

Kayak Morning

Eastern Sky

Heron

Female Wood Duck And Ducklings

Bald Eagle

Saturday was a day of sporadic rain, starting on and off in the morning, raining harder around 6:00.  We were both up early and busy, Evie with watering, me with getting trash ready to take to the Transfer Station. We are also having Linda and Ron over for dinner tonight so Evie started prepping a few things yesterday morning.  After the Transfer Station, I wanted to get one of my chores done so I washed the front windows once again, dirty with spider webs and occasional rain.  It's a neverending task trying to keep them clean.  

As a reward for washing them, Evie made me my new favorite lunch, avocado toasts topped with fried eggs, the best.  I watched more basketball saved from the night before and it looks like the playoffs might go on for another two or three weeks, giving me something to watch every day.  I usually watch the fourth quarter unless it's a really good game. We did not do much the rest of the afternoon as it was too pleasant sitting on our front porch, napping or reading.

Rainbow At 7:35

We had or Woodlawn gathering at 5:00 in the rain so we were able to congregate on one of our neighbor's porches. It was good to see everyone and we had our usual meeting to discuss any problems that have arisen over the past year.  It was over by 6:30.  We decided, then to have a cocktail and chips and salsa on the front porch and were rewarded with a downpour then a spectacular rainbow that filled the sky from Long Point to Tom's Point.  We had the leftover Santa Fe chicken for dinner and watched the usual although we decided to stick with home improvement shows and save The Handmaid's Tale for another night.  

One of my favorite poems, featured in this morning's New York Times: "19 Lines That Turn Anguish Into Art,"

One Art

BY ELIZABETH BISHOP

The art of losing isn’t hard to master;

so many things seem filled with the intent

to be lost that their loss is no disaster.

Lose something every day. Accept the fluster

of lost door keys, the hour badly spent.

The art of losing isn’t hard to master.

Then practice losing farther, losing faster:

places, and names, and where it was you meant

to travel. None of these will bring disaster.

I lost my mother’s watch. And look! my last, or

next-to-last, of three loved houses went.

The art of losing isn’t hard to master.

I lost two cities, lovely ones. And, vaster,

some realms I owned, two rivers, a continent.

I miss them, but it wasn’t a disaster.

—Even losing you (the joking voice, a gesture

I love) I shan’t have lied. It’s evident

the art of losing’s not too hard to master

though it may look like (Write it!) like disaster.