Asakiyume mita

There's a weathervane perched on the tip of the steeple of the Congregational Church in town--I thought at first it was a skeletal fish, but maybe it's just a decorative arrow.... but maybe it is a fish, swimming in the sky ocean.

The birds are not sea birds. Maybe they perch on the fish-arrow the way savannah birds perch on elephants. Maybe they just like the view. So high. Now that I know they cluster there, I look for them every time I pass the church.



And here's a photo of a reflection of the setting sun. It's actually a reflection of a reflection. If you look at this blog post through a mirror, you'll have added some extra layers.



I had some actual words-y content-y sorts of things to share, but pictures are good too. The other stuff comes and goes, and there's always something new. Oh, hey, but one other thing: at the laundromat the other day, I saw a woman, helped by her little son, empty the dollar changer of dollars and put in a whole tubful of quarters--presumably ones taken out of the washers and driers. What a happy closed system. There was a dollar jammed up, which they couldn't get out, and the mom said, "leave it for the spirits of the change machine." A cool thing for her to say. The boy was bumming about it, a little, but a torn dollar bill is no good, in any case.

Phone photos

I had some Canadian pennies that, technically, I shouldn't try to use here. (Actually, I'm sure no one cares much. In addition to Canadian pennies, I've got English half-penny coins and euro penny coins that I've gotten in change.) So, I decided to flatten them on the train tracks this past Tuesday. (Don't worry: there are no known cases of pennies on the tracks derailing trains.) At 4:10 pm, I heard the train whistle, so I went out with the healing angel to see if I could collect my flattened coins.

I only recovered one:

One for the tracks
One for the train
That left one
That still remained

It was extra shiny in a thin circle all around the edge: like the bright sliver of new moon that cradles the old moon--which I saw later that night, with clouds racing by it.



Since my sister and I often made necklaces of cranberries as kids--theoretically to drape on the turkey as it was cooking for Thanksgiving, but really we'd end up wearing them ourselves--I think of cranberries as being beads. Beautiful bright red beads that, nevertheless, you can cook with.

Mama, why are you unstringing your necklace?
Don't ask questions, child
But why are you adding them to the soup?
Didn't I just say not to ask questions? Now bring this cup of tea to our guest.
Mama, are you going to serve him soup with your beads in it?
Take the man his tea!
I am, but I just--
Now!