asakiyume: (feathers on the line)
I wrote a microfiction about Icarus the other day:

Sent out to gather feathers for his father's project, Icarus only picked up ones that birds had shed--he never harmed a single bird. And he learned the birds the feathers came from: osprey, gull, raven, jay, starling.

Later, when he flew too close to the sun and the wax melted, when the feathers were coming out one by one, when he was falling, the birds remembered his careful ways and came to rescue him, in flocks and bands and murmurations.


I also tried a pawpaw the other day, following fast on the heels of [personal profile] sovay. It was delicious! It reminded me a little of an Amazonian fruit I had, caímo-the same texture, the same big seeds. But the pawpaw's flavor and scent was all its own. Once upon a time I wanted to grow a pawpaw, but gave up the idea because my yard is small and already has as many trees as I wanted in it. But now I'm rethinking that. I've saved the seeds. The internet tells me they need to chill out in the fridge for 80–120 days, so I have washed them, wrapped them in a wet paper towel, placed them in a plastic baggie, and put them in the fridge. The last time I tried something like this was in 2006, when I tried growing Khazak apples. I ended up with two viable plants that made it past the one-year mark, but then something ate them. Ah, life.

Let's see how I go with pawpaws.
asakiyume: (man on wire)
Thanks to [personal profile] osprey_archer, I've been (very leisurely) reading the first few Betsy-Tacy books. They are a real delight, and I laughed at this scene from the second, Betsy-Tacy and Tib. The girls are eight years old, and they're each looking after a younger sibling, and Betsy, the inventive one, has hit upon learning to fly as an activity. They will jump off progressively taller things, flapping their arms, until they master flight. At the point of this excerpt, they've already jumped off a hitching block and a rail fence, and next they're going to jump from the lowest branch of a maple tree. But this presents problems....

I'll go next, unless you want to )

Betsy never does jump: instead she distracts them all (not just Tib and Tacy, but the younger siblings too) by telling a story about the three of them as birds, and about why they turn back from birds to girls (because their mothers are weeping so sadly because they're gone)--which story causes everyone present to burst into tears, and Betsy has to hasten to the point where they transform back into girls and climb, not fly, down from the maple tree. "Like this," and she climbs down.

Maud Hart Lovelace never once says that Tacy and Betsy are afraid to jump; you get it all from the dialogue and the action. [okay, she does say Tacy is scared, but MAINLY it's from the other things.] Very cute.

(I like telling just fine in stories, as it happens; I'm not sharing this as some kind of implicit writing directive. I just thought it was a very cute example of the art of showing in practice.)
asakiyume: (feathers on the line)
I satisfied a long-standing wish earlier this week and watched the planes taking off from the Northampton airport. I was with the healing angel and her significant other--we had a picnic.

It's a beautiful area, with cabbage, potato, and cornfields all around, plus plenty of wildflowers, and a view of the Holyoke range:

Holyoke range

And there were *lots* of planes flying that day:

the plane, the plane

takeoff

flying toward us

22-second phone video of a plane taking off )

I could have watched them all day, but work called. I'd like to go back, though, maybe with a writing project--work on writing while the planes are taking off and landing.

You know that song "Airplanes," from like a decade ago? It starts out "Can we pretend that airplanes in the night sky are like shooting stars? Cause I could really use a wish right now, wish right now, wish right now"

But it was the daytime sky, and the planes *were* the wish--and it was being granted. Just wonderful.

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