foto by smith
chiplis took us on a tantalizing growing tour of the grounds – besides a multitude of roses, grasses, and other flowers, there’s sage, oregano, lemon balm, mint, thyme, raspberries, chive, dill, basil, horseradish, green beans, peppers, carrots, collards, red currents, and potatoes known as peruvian purple. what a gorgeous name. i’d buy them just for the sound of saying it aloud as i ordered – a pound of peruvian purple if you please. make a great dope name too – pass a puff of peruvian purple please.
darn, now my brain detrained on sheb wooley’s 1958 hit “Purple People Eater” – a song about a one-eyed, one-horned flying purple people eater coming to earth to be in a rock n roll band.
i also like sage – the word brings shimmers of wisdom and the wide open west what with zen sages and sagebrush. i broke a sage leaf in my hands, inhaled earth tang. made me remember when i rode shotgun on the sage coach between nowhere and no exit. crushed some oregano too – smelt like pizza.
it’s raining right now. often in our travels i found myself entranced by water, the meeting of land and water, the way light plays on both. i’ve moist memories of amsterdam canals… venetian waters… the mediterranean… never-ending english rain on the roof of our tent… walking the west african coast looking out at the atlantic… the long way the train tracked the hudson river’s mountain meanderings.
the past’s went water
the present rapids
the future fog in mist
foto by smith