I’m sitting in Naomi’s house in Santa Fe. This is a good place to be. It’s after nine o’clock in the evening and I have Bill Evans’ Solo Sessions on the computer. His music is like a warm beverage when you need it. Naomi and I went out tonight to a presentation that was a fund raiser for a school nearby. The presentation was terrible and we left before it was over.
I’m leaving in the morning for Maine via the south land, Florida, then up the coast to my neck of the woods. Literally. I look forward to the trip. I have fallen in love with this house and its occupants. I’m a pushover. Still I don’t regret becoming involved. I will miss this place.
I was looking at some photos on my album page and what I found from a few winters ago is a beautiful scene of the cove across the street from my house in Boothbay. The cove is in early morning sun and it is filled with sea smoke. I remembered that I’d written a poem about the same time that described the cove, the trees, and sea smoke. So here are both the poem and the photo. I hope your day is as lovely as this one has been for me.
Peace
WATERCOLOR TREES
A blanket of sea smoke steals softly into the cove,
Presses along the shore,
Two islands lean in with watercolor trees,
Their winter branches wave and reach,
Divas without wigs share startled stares.
Two India ink crows scold and command,
Two India ink crows being offensive,
All the while the sea smoke
With Mona Lisa lips
Slippers through,
Softly,
Silently,
Smiling.
George M. Goodwin
16 December 2014
Playing Fair and Being Kind 