Sunday, June 4, 2017

The Peacock Cries at Dusk

The last few months have been a blur. The move - pack, move, unpack, re-arrange, find space, unpack, create new. Several work trips. Getting accustomed to a new life (avec kidlets at intermittent intervals). Additional cats. Missing La Gram Russe. Spring. Getting used to a new space. Creating a new garden. 

I spent a little time reading. The Danger Box - an unexpectedly good read with rich details for a 10 year old reader. (Yes, I read it at the request of a certain 10 year old to allow us to discuss it.) The setting is "local", Three Oaks Michigan and has echoes of real-life Michigan. (The author doesn't know when blueberries actually ripen in Michigan, but that's the book's only flaw.) Finished My Kind of Place. Finished a book (the Decision to Join) for a board I'm on.

The lilacs bloomed. And I missed La Gram Russe. She knew my love of lilacs, and even when I lived where I did not have any, she made sure I had some fresh blooms for a vase. Where I am now, I have plenty of lilacs and I brought blooms in the house and  thought of her.

Unpacking was initially easy. Unfurl. Bookcases in place. Books put away. Clothes hung. Dressers in place. But making space for everything else means moving other people's things and creating a new shared space. It's a balance. The old. The new. Changes.

In this new space, every night at dusk a peacock cries. It's rural here. There are farms in abundance. The field behind us is family land and will be soybeans, I hear. The house next to us has a vineyard behind.The peacock belongs to a neighbor several farms away. A touch of the exotic in America's fruit basket - a bit like me.

Take - away: Wherever you go, you bring you. Make sure you like who you bring.

Photos by moi! (As usual, and you can tell.)

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Other posts from me you might enjoy:

- The Herd
- Message in a Bottle
- Bleeding Hearts and Time
- Lilacs and other Fairytales