“We drove through the avalanche tunnel, crossed the pass, and descended several thousand feet into central Washington and the broad Yakima valley, about which we knew only that it was orchard country. As we lost altitude, the snows disappeared; our ears popped; the trees changed, and in the trees were strange birds. I watched the landscape innocently, like a fool, like a diver in the rapture of the deep who plays on the bottom while his air runs out.”
I love your photo of Lisel with the pink lead as she looks straight on. Ed Mycue
(I'm in awe of your travels and (and underline 'and') your writing about it.) I have referenced Jules Mann of your example (she is a massive poet from around here living in London the last almost 30 years) recently retired and in her early 60's,
In an old British movie WHILE I LIVE, 1947, "The Dream of Olwen" by Charles Williams comes to my ears reading your sequence that starts with it seems a quote from a book of Annie Dillard's that you reference at your descent from the highest mountains (?) down to/ toward the sea reminding me when further you speak/ write of the Yakima valley (I had friends there once) and I hear a speech of the protagonist of CRY THE BELOVED COUNTRY in the musical of this iconic book by Alan Patton with the music of Maxwell Anderson (I think I need to look it up as my long now overfilled memory's frayed. )
It's all music here.
Ed Mycue with an impressionist reading of your travelogue ('travelogue': weak word and it doesn't have the sound of what you are doing. It could be, your writing in these celestial experiments in impermanence, the design to be used for a piano, harp, flute, clarinet concerto in the usual 3 part type composition (and romantic in the Rackmaninof (sp?) model. (With me I think the spelling problem is beyond dyslexia/ dyscalcularia and goes first through the ears and the skin.)
I love your photo of Lisel with the pink lead as she looks straight on. Ed Mycue
(I'm in awe of your travels and (and underline 'and') your writing about it.) I have referenced Jules Mann of your example (she is a massive poet from around here living in London the last almost 30 years) recently retired and in her early 60's,
Welcome back to the coast! What do you think of now as options of places to live?
TSM&B--OMG, I haven't seen them in so long! Are they moving to OR?
In an old British movie WHILE I LIVE, 1947, "The Dream of Olwen" by Charles Williams comes to my ears reading your sequence that starts with it seems a quote from a book of Annie Dillard's that you reference at your descent from the highest mountains (?) down to/ toward the sea reminding me when further you speak/ write of the Yakima valley (I had friends there once) and I hear a speech of the protagonist of CRY THE BELOVED COUNTRY in the musical of this iconic book by Alan Patton with the music of Maxwell Anderson (I think I need to look it up as my long now overfilled memory's frayed. )
It's all music here.
Ed Mycue with an impressionist reading of your travelogue ('travelogue': weak word and it doesn't have the sound of what you are doing. It could be, your writing in these celestial experiments in impermanence, the design to be used for a piano, harp, flute, clarinet concerto in the usual 3 part type composition (and romantic in the Rackmaninof (sp?) model. (With me I think the spelling problem is beyond dyslexia/ dyscalcularia and goes first through the ears and the skin.)