Red-bellied Woodpecker (Kingwood, Texas) — Image by Hugh Poland
Stary Sacz
A woodpecker in his red cap suddenly brought back the stationmaster in Stary Sacz. Over the station rose a little town, that is, an enormous market and convent of Poor Clares; each house had one window holding jars of borscht and pickles.
The innkeeper’s daughter was so thin that she kept bricks in her backpack to outwit the wind when she crossed the viaduct above the train tracks. The wind never got her, but other elements weren’t idle, especially Nothingness and her rich suitor, Mr. Time.
Robert Pinsky wrote in The New Republic: “[In the poetry of Adam Zagajewski] the unmistakable quality of the real thing–a sunlike force that wilts clichés and bollixes that categories of expectation– manifests itself powerfully . . . Like a fish breaking water . . . the achievement of these poems [“Without End”] is partly in that act of rising above a lived-in element. In Zagajewski’s work, the engulfing, ferocious historical reality appears as our habitat–not a well of horrors to be borrowed for rhetorical thunder, not an occasion for verse punditry, not a mere backdrop for sensibility. And the perception of that habitat has a mysterious, elating power.”
The Tufted Titmouse is not found in the southwest but is common in eastern deciduous forests and a frequent visitor to feeders. The large black eyes, small, round bill, and brushy crest gives these birds a quiet but eager expression that matches the way they flit through canopies, hang from twig ends, and drop in to bird feeders. When a titmouse finds a large seed, you’ll see it carry the prize to a perch and crack it with sharp whacks of its stout bill. — Source: All About Birds
Joy wading out on Galveston West Beach to be with the grandchildren.
This year Joy’s birthday was celebrated in Galveston, Texas. We rented a beach house on the west end of Galveston Island. Hugh had written a song that was to have been performed at the beach house, but schedules made it difficult to happen there. So, several days later Hugh set-up his equipment in Jill’s game room for Joy and myself with James as cameraman and Jill doing the rhythm. Hugh actually did a mini-concert for Joy.
I’m now back in Tucson, Joy will be returning on the 21st — you know how grandmothers are.
Ain’t no sunshine when she’s gone It’s not warm when she’s away Ain’t no sunshine when she’s gone And she’s always gone too long Anytime she goes away
Wonder this time where she’s gone Wonder if she’s gone to stay Ain’t no sunshine when she’s gone And this house just ain’t no home Anytime she goes away
And I know, I know, I know, I know, I know, I know, I know, I know, I know I know, I know, I know, I know, I know I know, I know, I know, I know, I know I know, I know, I know, I know, I know I know, I know, Hey, I oughtta leave young thing alone But ain’t no sunshine when she’s gone
Ain’t no sunshine when she’s gone Only darkness every day Ain’t no sunshine when she’s gone And this house just ain’t no home Anytime she goes away Anytime she goes away Anytime she goes away Anytime she goes away
Katelyn Turner, Janie Turner, Joy Otrey, Kenne D. Turner, Mary Ann Turner-McCloud, Buddy McCloud, Katie Turner-Bailey and Kenne G. Turner (Lupe Tortilla’s in The Woodlands, Texas, July 27, 2018) — Image by waiter, Saul
We have been planning Joy’s 70th birthday for several months. We knew Kate and her Family who now lives in New Hampshire would not be able to make it to the beach house gathering in Galveston this weekend. We also knew that Katelyn, Janie and Kenne D. would be camping in Central Texas.
Then, a couple of weeks ago we learned Kate would be attending a conference in Houston this week, so plans were quickly made to have dinner on the 27th — Kate was very pleased. We arrived in Houston at 3:30 pm with plenty of time for dinner at 6:30 pm in The Woodlands.
A Flooded Neighborhood Grocery in Kingwood, Texas — Image by kenne
We are here in Kingwood, Texas staying with one of our children, Jill, and grandson James in Kingwood, Texas, which is part of Houston. It flooding down in Houston, and unless you are on a mountain top disconnected from the social media world, this is not news to you. Record amounts have rain has fallen causes massive flooding, even in places that have never flooded.
Thousands of people are flooded out of the homes, and many have no place to go. Many of these people are those who are bearly able to get by on a daily basis. Many are the people who do our dirty work.
“Who’s gonna build your wall boys? Who’s gonna mow your lawn? Who’s gonna cook your Mexican food When your Mexican maid is gone?
Who’s gonna wax the floors tonight Down at the local mall? Who’s gonna wash your baby’s face? Who’s gonna build your wall?”
— Tom Russell
Today I spent part of my day driving through parts of Kingwood, a planned community where poor young Hispanics would not be able to afford to live. Yet, one-third of the Houston population is Hispanic, some of which may not be here legally. Regardless, without many of this population; Who would be doing our dirty-work? Who will help clean up Houston after Harvey? I was thinking about this question and its answer today during my drive when I saw a large group of people coming out of a local grocery store that had been flooded.
This Christmas Eve was sunny and warm in Kingwood, Texas and as I have done in past visits, I went for a photographic walk in nearby East End Park. It’s just what I do.
“I wish to know an entire heaven and an entire earth.”
— Henry David Thoreau
Images by kenne (Click On Any Titled Image To View In Slideshow Format)
“There is no point in hurrying because you are not actually going anywhere. However far or long you plod, you are always in the same place: in the woods. It’s where you were yesterday, where you will be tomorrow. The woods is one boundless singularity. Every bend in the path presents a prospect indistinguishable from every other, every glimpse into the trees the same tangled mass. For all you know, your route could describe a very large, pointless circle. In a way, it would hardly matter.”