Tall ships in the morning. Sullivans Cove, April 2010. I miss the high seas. February 23 , by David Lehman Light rain is falling in Central Park but not on Upper Fifth Avenue or Central Park West where sun and sky are yellow and blue Winds are gusting on Washington Square through the arches and on to LaGuardia Place but calm is the corner of 8th Street and Second Avenue which reminds me of something John Ashbery said about his poem "Crazy Weather" he said he was in favor of all kinds of weather just so long as it's genuine weather which is always unusually bad, unusually good, or unusually indifferent, since there isn't really any norm for weather When he was a boy his mother met a friend who said, "Isn't this funny weather?" It was one of his earliest memories
The grow the grapes and they turn the grapes into wine. Richmond, April 2010. Grapes, glorious grapes. I prefer eating them than squishing them between my toes. That said, there is something awfully sensual crushing underfoot. Especially when I'm being flogged with a flaccid celery stalk.
What’s in the box. On the Derwent one Autumn morn, April 2010. Theme Thursday today, and I’ve finally made an effort. People love not knowing stuff. Actually, that’s not correct! People hate not knowing stuff; what they love is the challenge of trying to find out the stuff that they know that they don’t know. Inevitably, humans being humans and all that that entails, most people are frustrated and annoyed when they finally crack the code and solve the MYSTERY and find out the stuff that they knew that that didn’t know; the stuff that they hated knowing not knowing about, does not measure up to their expectations that their imaginations had set loose. Indeed, the MYSTERY around their lack of knowledge held an allure that reality just cannot match. Today’s photograph is a good case in point. Walking to walk a few weeks’ back, I spy (with my little eye) a MYSTER Y ious object floating out in the river estuary. Handily, I am usually armed with a camera with a trusty zoom, and
The ties that bind... Sullivan's Cove, May 2010. I've long held that there are only two kinds of people: people who ask questions and people who don't ask questions. Oh, and mutes. I'm not a mute and I ask questions. That's the kind of people I am.
The 1950s were a great time to be alive. Children were able to play in the street without fear, the Reds were under the bed, a man could discipline an uppity wife any way that he could choose and the coloureds knew their place. Part of the beauty of the 1950s extended to doing whatever one felt like on their lounge chair, content in the knowledge that you could hose down that chair in the driveway – with little Jimmy and Scraps the dog – and expect nary a cross word from the neighbours. They were good times. We won't see their like again...
10 Murray in her Autumn finest. May, 2010. My usual bus didn't show this morning, which means that everything has been thrown out of whack. How I hate that. I'm a man of science and order . Disorder is not appreciated. You can guess how much I have relished small children.
Paddling around the CSIRO. March, 2010. I quite like the hazy, mirage effect on the horizon here. I'm not sure what exactly caused it, but do know that it accompanied some fuel burn offs down south. Time for todays Sunday Top Five! I've consulted the terrible twosome, and we've come up with Henry and Ezra's Top Five Television Shows (at the moment...) Dirty Jobs (with Mike Rowe) Yo Gabba Gabba Play School Charlie and Lola Mister Maker