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Small magics

On Thursday there was a candy-pink truck, like a giant child's toy, outside a university building:

On Friday evening, in the parking lot of the Pioneer Valley Planning Commission, and with a view of Interstate 91, a lowering sky, and storage units, there was a little blue food truck, looking like a food truck version of The Little Engine That Could:

Last night, Wakanomori left his running shoes on the porch--this morning they had moved.

The raccoons and possums were trying them on for size? Or maybe some less common midnight creature borrowed them for an elsewhere marathon. I wonder how they placed?

I found a big piece of birch bark on the ground in the woods. It still has a fair amount of birch meat on the other side, but I'll knock that off and then I'll draw out an epic of my people on it. "Savage," muttered the birch tree in my yard, seeing me walking with the skin of its sibling.

not happy with my finding

I happened upon this year-old post on methods of transportation to heaven and hell, which includes references to stories by Mark Twain and Nathaniel Hawthorne. It got me thinking about how we travel to other worlds--is it by foot, on the back of a magical beast, or in a conveyance made by human or other hands? Must your eyes be open or closed when you cross over (variant of this: must you be intoxicated or sober)? I want to think more about this, but first I want to read the stories mentioned in that entry.


( 20 comments — Leave a comment )
Feb. 21st, 2016 02:50 pm (UTC)
I love that candy-pink truck. Such a riot of unnecessary loveliness.

You've brought birch bark home before, haven't you? I seem to remember other entries about it. The birch tree is probably quite worried about its eventual fate.
Feb. 21st, 2016 03:06 pm (UTC)
Yes, I have--always hand-sized bits. This piece is more thigh-and-leg sized, so I can understand the tree's concern.
Feb. 21st, 2016 03:18 pm (UTC)
Lovely colored truck findings.

So what did you do with the birch bark? Is it considered lucky?
Feb. 21st, 2016 05:06 pm (UTC)
I don't know if it's considered lucky--that's a good question! Native Americans used to make all sorts of things out of the bark--containers for storing things, canoes, even. And I had a friend from Pakistan send me a letter on processed birch bark (by processed I mean it wasn't just torn off a tree--it was all neat and tidy).

I'd love to be able to make stuff out of it, but I think I'll probably just draw something on the back of it. It's so pretty!
Feb. 21st, 2016 06:46 pm (UTC)
Interesting...processed birch to paper. Would love to have a feel of that. Share what you draw once done. :)
Feb. 22nd, 2016 12:02 am (UTC)
Will do!
Feb. 21st, 2016 03:48 pm (UTC)
Good morning
Feb. 21st, 2016 05:06 pm (UTC)
Good morning! How's the weather down there?
Feb. 22nd, 2016 01:48 am (UTC)
Warmish. Sunny earlier then light rain. Wonderful. Yours?
Feb. 22nd, 2016 02:44 pm (UTC)
Today, bright and sunny! Springlike, birds singing.
Feb. 21st, 2016 04:03 pm (UTC)
I love the trucks. :)

Funny about the running shoes. Do you think an animal was trying to drag them off but they were too heavy?

As a child, I used to gather the bark that had fallen off scaly bark hickory trees and draw maps on them.
Feb. 21st, 2016 05:04 pm (UTC)
I think probably an animal--maybe just our cat--knocked them while prowling about. But I'd love to think some creature was coveting them, or even borrowed them for a race.

What fun about the maps! Was it maps of imaginary places? Did you show anyone, or were they your private maps?
Feb. 21st, 2016 07:30 pm (UTC)
I recall the birch bark letters of 20th century (an example on link):

Feb. 21st, 2016 11:45 pm (UTC)
Oh wow, this is beautiful and heartbreaking: heartbreaking because it's beauty coming out of a place of misery.

Thanks for sharing.
Feb. 21st, 2016 08:52 pm (UTC)
Perhaps the Birch tree has forgiven you. It knows it wasn't your fault. And you are honoring its sibling's skin by treating it as potential artwork.
Feb. 21st, 2016 11:43 pm (UTC)
I hope you're right--I like the thought. I'll try to make something good.
Feb. 21st, 2016 10:03 pm (UTC)
To go to other worlds, you must first close your eyes. Or have your vision obscured in some way -- say, by coats hanging a wardrobe. And I think you probably should not be thinking about going to another world. Clear your mind -- perhaps by counting and concentrating on the numbers.
Feb. 21st, 2016 11:42 pm (UTC)
I agree! I think closed eyes or, somehow anyway, unawareness of crossing the border, is important.
Feb. 21st, 2016 11:45 pm (UTC)
Perhaps it was a sore-footed wind with somewhere it needed to go. If that's the case, Waka is very lucky. Usually the winds have terrible memories.
Feb. 22nd, 2016 12:03 am (UTC)
a sore-footed wind

Love this. You just can't NOT make poetry.
( 20 comments — Leave a comment )

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