And what if the sky, one miserable and weepy day, went up in a puff of smoke?


And what if the sky, one miserable and weepy day, went up in a puff of smoke, and the azure or lapis lazuli it was accustomed to produce was no more? Because if there was one thing I could always count on, it was the sheer size, hue, and predictability of the firmament. Alas, no more. It was now, apparently, the site of a great battle. The last battle? Who knows.

We are, you and I, sitting on a dewy carpet. Can you see it in your mind’s eye? Do you feel the slight tingly breeze? Do you notice how disarming the pallor of your skin can be when sunshiny flecks deposit themselves athwart your bare arms? And I want to tell you that as a means of connecting more deeply with the world (and it’s unfathomable mysteries), I force myself to re-learn something everyday. Though this exercise may seem wistful to you, I can stake my reputation on its illimitable effectiveness. Today I re-learned the meaning of clouds.


no words, no music, only the vaunted language of flowers







For Mary…

Mary, a long time reader of these pages, wanted to see some island flowers and to feel the touch of warm ocean breezes.

So here are some flowers. You’ll have to use your imagination for the ocean mist, as social-media technology has not evolved to the point of producing the sensation of having the Atlantic ocean embrace your skin with a sprightly tingle. You’ll also have to conjure for yourself the perfumed effect of passing under a Frangipani in early morning.

There’s so much work for the poor reader to do that I’m including some music–so much easier than having to imagine the abluent nature of warm sea water or the intense fragrance of certain tropical trees.

This is another take on the blithesome changes to Pachelbel’s Canon. And you are probably thinking to yourself–that’s the only piece he knows! And you’d be right.

Well almost. I also know this ethereal piece too…

P.S. Mary’s pages are found at
and if you are quick enough, you can see the blue vase I like so much.





Heliconia rostrata

Heliconia rostrata

Black Mission fig

Black Mission fig





Ariel listens to …


This is Ariel’s favorite piece of music (if you choose to exclude the entire Motörhead oeuvre, of course).

I play for her, she yawns.

Still, she listens and that’s so polite.

Click here to listen (the changes are from the beloved Pachelbel Canon)…

N.B. Ariel may have been thinking ‘cannon’ (as in the artillery piece), and that’s certainly in keeping with her heavy metal bias. And who can blame her; English is tricky, with so many persnickety words (words such as persnickety!)–canon with one ‘n’ or two: my motor head swirls. This distinction is too tough for a little dog. And also, in the murky world of canine semantics, umlauted letters are frowned upon, particularly when they are of dubious provenance and misappropriated by ill-shaven individuals.

Prospero, is ill-shaven a euphemism for ill-bred? Ed. (Don’t you hate it when a blog author poses his own questions? And don’t you hate it when a blog author invents fictitious editors, or fictitious anything for that matter?)

What perspicacity, Herr editor! Euphonism/Euphemism…see what I mean? Isn’t it time to revamp the entire English language?