Wednesday, August 26, 2015

Fish out of water

And in that fish's belly is a blooming ruffled echeveria -- my newest favorite.  What a beauty, both. And across the street, sits & sways the ocean.  Many fish and none out of water unless someone fishing for dinner.  That night the salmon from Half Moon Bay grilled to a perfect conversation. Meal as poem.  Today, I'll visit the Strybing Arboretum in hopes of bringing home (purchased, of course) a ruffled escheveria. Coming full circle satisfies.  


1 comment:

  1. One of my favorite paintings is the one he did of my mother, slipping out of her dress. it is in dark green and blue and marks the apex of his acrylic period.

    "We're out here, watching the Olympics," my father calls to me. He and his sons are out on the porch, joking about being bachelors. He has made us soup for supper. When they discover the diet rye bread, the four of them comment in unison, "We hate this bread she buys."

    Get out a big steak to barbecue! My father has organized a farewell dinner. As we are finishing up he says, "You know, I get out there once in a while."


    cp 367-389 Intimacy II CA76 for RMG

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