>* letting in some light

>

Notes While Reading Kittredge

*Who are we to think we can regulate the ways of water? Where did the waterbirds go?

My daughter pulls on mittens, zips into her parka. Tells me: we are going to garden a moss mansion.

*You can lose a life in the work.

We recall our last family vacation. Remember, my son says — the trees were stunned by salt winds.

*Reimagine desire, power over nature.

Driving to work in two feet of snow this morning I listened to a friend on my cell phone talk about Montana history: Whiskey follows gold. Gold led to brick buildings.

*Useful dreams — what is this?

I ask Sebastian. He tells me: I don’t have one friend who isn’t from somewhere else.

*Stories are a thicket to catch the mind from falling.

Lately I’ve been thinking of a farmer’s field skidded in with stones. My ex-husband, the father of my children, grew up picking rocks from his brother-in-law’s wheat fields. Every spring he would fill another skid with stones. This is how he knew rocks grew.

*When we wake up, what comes back in the morning?

It’s taken me until now to believe him.

***************

* denotes phrases from Who Owns the West, by William Kittredge

Advertisements

About redmitten

author of Cracking Geodes Open, Making Good Use of August, and The Peppermint Bottle. poetry editor for IthacaLit and YB Poetry Journal. website: https://toomuchaugust.wordpress.com

6 responses to “>* letting in some light

  1. >This is lovely. I found you through the language/place blog carnival and glad I did!

  2. >My first blog visit this morning, and there you are with William Kittredge and, "Stories are a thicket to catch the mind from falling." Just when I thought my last post of November would veer away from anything that might inspire, you pulled me back with the reminder that the words and works of others are there for the illumination of all. Thank you. And thank you for the rocks, growing.

  3. >Life juxtaposed against William Kittredge. What you do so well…. rocks that grow, and trees that are stunned by "salt wind". This is why I keep coming back to your blog.Wonderful……

  4. >Sherry, You and Kittredge gave me fuel this morning and I included a link to you in my posting, hope that was okay.

  5. >Hi Sherry,There's much to contemplate here, and I have noted, your children are poets, too: "the trees were stunned by salt winds," and "we are going to garden a moss mansion." It's in the verbs and the music of the words. I especially love "the trees were stunned by salt winds," because I've seen those trees.

  6. >hi jennifer,thanks for tracking me down!hi marylinn,oh, i am honored, thank you! i'm glad kittredge lit a light so to speak for you as well. a few years ago i wrote a poem about how my siblings and i would tell stories while waiting for the bus…that way we couldn't worry about what irish kids out in the middle of nowhere would worry about. i like what kittredge had to say, and how he said it.oh farmlady! you made my day, thank you. i really wondered if these "leaps" between rocks that grown and salted winds could stir others beside me. muchly appreciated!hi annie,i'll have to tell my kids what you've written. i tell them this quite often – the way they see the world and the way they phrase things, they are writers and just do not (yet) know it. …and yes, aren't those trees something to behold?

and then you said:

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s

Enter your email address to subscribe to this blog and receive notifications of new posts by email.

Join 52 other followers

%d bloggers like this: