Lake Reflection
Originally uploaded by nevadog.
From the window of my house you can see the lake here in Tikrit at the palace complex. What kinds of things can you see from your windows? I wish I could see home from mine here...
From the window of my house you can see the lake here in Tikrit at the palace complex. What kinds of things can you see from your windows? I wish I could see home from mine here...
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From my window I see the sun setting through the leaves on the huge tree behind my home. Along with what I see, I smell fresh earth after a light rain. It smells new. I hear the neighbors dog barking and it's a friendly, neighborly sound. I hear the washer running, a radio in the background, Ingrid shutting the front door, Dan talking to Pepe (their dog), a car driving by. Friendly sounds, part of a community, safe sounds. So different than the sights and sounds you experience during your days my son Never did I ever imagine my son would be at war. I love you, Mom xoxo.
I can see the freedom you fight for...Thank you,God Bless and take care
from my window, I can see: a lightblue sky withot a single cloud in it, at high noon. a stand of tall bamboo that needs cuttng back because it lolls over the sidewalk...two young ficus trees againt the grey fence, growing into balls of shiny green leaves..a pile of bracken being overtaken by a wandering tangle of nasturtiums, their brilliant vermilion, orange and yellow flowers peeking out from the shade as tey climb over the drying branches i cut from the lilac bush last month. i see a fan palm no taller than me, spraying its wide accordian pleated fronds ever which way, shading the broad compost heap in the wire cage where i dump the grass clippings whe i mow the yard..and the huge old ficus that overspreads the cage and shades allthe buckets and tubs i tossbackthere hen i don't ned them for gardening. i see the thre different wagons i use to haul fertilizers arund the place--the big green metal mesh one, the little red one with al the pain rusted off, and the funny plastic one with the bent handles and tiny wheels. they crowd togethr on the dry, bent, tall grass that i haven't yet cut down from last winter's rains. wnter wheat that no one will eat, destind to become straw,chopped up for the compost pile and nice loose soil for the baby fruit trees we're planting. the noon sun glares on the short lawn. it is browning. i need to start the summer watering schedule and green it up again...i see the jumble of old sinks, a camper top, loose bricks, discarded lumber and last fall's dry leaves that blanketed the junkpile in the back corner. one of these days we'll get in there and clean that all up. but not today. the wind chimes by my window give off lazy, random chimes in the sea breeze, like a friend thinking out loud, answering my random questions. the loquat tree in the center of the yard looks better since i trimmed it last monday for the BBQ, but i see it's still not balanced. looks like a little girl's tent dress, an A-line of feathery dark green. the light orange round fruits of a week ago are all turning into prunes now, way past ripe and falling into the grass below. the birds zip over and perch unsteadily in the treetop, looking for a tasty morsel to peck at. i wonder if they get drunk on the rotten ones...
a jaybird swoops at the butt of my cats, angrily yelling at them to go away. it must have a nest nearby. the cats close their eyes in total disnterest and remain parked placidly in the shade of the tree, dozing in the midday heat. nice fat, sleek loaves of cat, nestled in the grass, impervious.
the sun glares off the bright white paint on the car in the driveway, the chrome making my eyes hurt. the gardening tools hang rusting along the long grey fence, the rakes, shovels, hoes, pitchforks and other implements waiting for me to pick them out and work the earth some more, reshaping this little patch of the world to be more beautiful, more colorful, more pleasant to be in.
the couch under the loquat tree bakes and bleaches in the hot summer sun.it will be a nice cool spot to sit and rest later when the sun has gone west, and the tree will throw a long shadow over it in the afternoon.
across the street, the hammers and tols knock andecho, as the builders lay chicken wire over tar paper to prepare the construction project for its finish of stucco. mexican workers walk in and out of the weathered plywood construction fencing to their shiny trucks parked on the street. they laugh and joke with each other, calling out and nodding as they wipe the sweat from their faces and necks. a lowrider roars by, bass thumping as it disappears up the street. a surfer in wetsuit rides past on a bicycle, balancing his board under one arm, steering with the other. he's barefoot and totally relaxed.
a pert young lady walks a big, happy dog up the street on a long leash. the dog is eager and excited, keeps looking back at her for cue she smiles dazzlingly under the sun, a jaunty walk, hair swinging. i hear a refrigerator compressor humming somewhere across the street. the stars and stripes windsock stirs in the hot breeze, dangling like a flaccid octopus from the long 2x4 i raised as a flagpole on the pale grey fence last 4th of july. the tops of the trees are tossing restlessly in the distance, in other people's backyards, a few houses or streets away. my conscience is nagging me, that i should get moving andget out there and get some work done.but i did alot yesterday, pulling nails out of 100 year old lumber, and today I'[m sore and tired, and i think i can be forgiven if today i just need to rest and be lazy. it's ok to be that way. this is summer now. it's expected. the birds might scream at me, but the cats will understand how i feel. -----------------janet in venice
That was beautiful Janet
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