WW: Classic Puget Sound house

(Another in my unintended series on endangered Old Settler houses in the district where I grew up. I've loved this one since I first rowed the lake at the age of 8. Its classic Puget Sound lines – detached garage, gable roof, dormers, shed-roofed second story, barn paint and gleaming white trim – I associated with grandparents, partly because my own raised their kids and still lived in one like it.

Lacking a boat these days – embarrassing as that is – I took this shot through the back fence; bit of a shame, really, because the view from the water, while less bucolic than it was those many years ago, is much more evocative of the prewar era in this part of the world. [See photo below, taken by a school chum from his front yard in 1965.]

A popular city park was built beside it in the 70s, and I'm told the city bought this property too when the last elderly resident moved out a few years ago. That explains the nominal effort to make the boarding-up less unsightly, but sadly, almost certainly also signals the end of this fine old example of Green Side architecture.)

Arriving

With a motorboat you get there faster,
but with a sailboat you’re already there.


(Winslow Homer's Breezing Up courtesy of the National Gallery of Art [US] and Wikimedia Commons.)

WW: Sunbeam chair

Squeezing The Legs Out Of The Snake

That's what the Tibetans call it, when you try to force your delusions on objective reality.

You find a snake. It's an animal; it should have legs. But where are they? It has no hair in which to hide them, no feathers, no shell.

Well, they must be inside.

So you squeeze. I picture the unoffending reptile, coiled around my wrist: bug-eyed, silent, indignant.

You want it to have legs. You'd feel better if it had legs. You insist it have legs. In the end, you'd rather it were dead, than to go on existing without legs.

But the thing is, it has no legs.

And that's only a problem for you.


(Adapted from Rough Around the Edges [manuscript in progress]. Photo of Epicrates cenchria, the rainbow boa, courtesy of Rawpixel.com and a generous photographer.)

WW: Late winter check-in

Street Level Zen: Captivity

"Zoos are full, prisons are overflowing... how the world still dearly loves a cage."

   Maude.


– From lifelong favourite Harold and Maude, which entire movie has an atmosphere I would later recognise as the precise texture of Zen koans and stories.

    "Why not kill yourself?" asked the monk

    "No place to start," said Caoshan.




(Photo courtesy of Chris Fuller and Unsplash.com.)

WW: Winter afternoon