Robert (gurdonark) wrote,
Robert
gurdonark

tay greyhound wired testament

I stop for gas, at an out-of-the-way gas station not far from the expressway. As I fill my car with regular unleaded, I look up at a telephone wire. I see several kingbirds, sitting on the wire, with that low-key majesty inexplicably common to this unassuming yellow-breasted bird. I ponder that it is only in the past year I could easily identify a western kingbird by sight, and think about how a little knowledge changes my relationship to the world I see.

Lately I head to work a a bit earlier, as I stay quite busy these days. When I leave particuarly early, the greyhound down the street is out for a walk. I don't know this greyhound by name, nor do I know his polite owners a few houses away. We see them walk him from time to time, but we exchange no more words than "he doesn't bite, he's a good boy" and the like. In my mind, I imagine that he is a rescue from the raceways. All I know for sure is that he's very patient and gentle.

I get an e-mail from a friend in Australia who sings. She took one of my poems, cut it up a bit, and used it as the lyric for a song in an electronica song. May they release it on a netlabel in Poland? I live for questions like this. But of course, I reply. My poetry has been compared to the poetry of the Vogons, or the poetry of that fellow who went on about the Tay Bridge, but it has pull in Polish techno.

I have a hankering to learn the recorder. It's not that hard, so perhaps I'll indulge it. I must also do this year's legal education classes. I am attracted to a course in how to write a will to leave money for pets.

Speaking of pets, the folks at a Purina website pulled one of my flickr photos of our dog Teddy, and entered it into a "best pet photo' contest". I know that is viral marketing, but what a delight. Last I looked, some smugly handsome number of a tabby was the pride of the pride with 19 votes, while Ted was in 6th place with only 10.

Tonight I think of cuttlefish, and Vivaldi.
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