Mt. Tam glimpsed (barely) from Sir Francis Drake Blvd. in Larkspur Landing
Fog and clouds with a relentless appetite for blue skies and vistas chopped up the skyline this morning. On a smaller scale, this amorphous alliance powered by wind and droplets of steam washed out the color of my imagination too. A little bit of January in June, which somehow reminds me of a poem by Robert Hass from a time lost to (ironically enough) time:
To a Reader
I’ve watched memory wound you.
I felt nothing but envy.
Having slept in wet meadows,
I was not through desiring.
Imagine January and the beach,
a bleached sky, gulls. And
look seaward: what is not there
is there, isn’t it, the huge
bird of the first light
arched above first waters
beyond our touching or intention
or the reasonable shore.
From Praise, 1979
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