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...and they lived happily ever after. Smith & Lady: poets, artists, photographers & adventurers.
Our relationship was forged to the soundtrack of Yoko Ono's magic,
frenetic, love-laden song, "Walking On Thin Ice." ( play song )



The gears I muster, the traction I make, the tending and
learningĀ and gathering and hunkering.

Arraying myself, making array from disarray. Using
disarray to hatch, mulch, compost. Gathering disarray
like humus collected from trees, normal dropping of twigs
over a season, work to do.

That which relates to nature relates to my life,
that which I do can be more in the general flow of nature–
even technical bits can be more harmonious, a good part
of nature. Like sweeping, a broom, winding garlic garlands,
canning the excess of a season to put in my keep,
my laden cupboards, my nest.

Satisfaction of opening that which I’ve cultivated, that which
I’ve gathered, the bunching I crunched to make
harvest season.

How it goes so fast; two months ago I boiled the kitchen,
steam on the windows, sticky on the floor, stayed up late
past bedtime, crunched to do what I’d done.

I remember the physicality of it, 60 days ago, 1400 hours
and now I’m turning screw threads on jars, being a bit sparing
so as to savor and dole, steam poured into winter.

So glad for the abundance our civilization’s put aside, the
abstraction of money such that specialists flourish, like
granularity of so many kinds of pollen.

How I can drive to stores any time, really, stores,
community pantries, and there’s lots set aside, more
than enough for anyone, really, and we’ll have Spring.

~ Lady

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