FRIDAY NIGHT DOG BLOG – Steeping into September September 12, 2015Posted by wmmbb in DOG BLOG -.
As you may guess, Dexter and Hannah stepped outside again this week for a jaunt on their leads, which went in every direction including the investigations of whatever was discovered on the ground. They are dogs, there life span is somewhat shorter than among fortunate humans.
We humans are caught in the constraints of probability, and at some point we have to recognize our mortality. This might be accurately represented as subjective probability. We are advised to be prepared, to exercise foresight, in essence good government, apparently something beyond the short term focus of political culture.
The morality of Dexter and Hannah serves to remind me of my own. So in the meantime, we imagine we can be at once egotistical, a cultural conditioning almost impossible to escape, and trivial, otherwise cast as having fun.
I had never heard of a Preposition Poem. I tried my hand, and found myself walking through with stones in my shoes. So here goes:
On a daily walk,
in the bush,
upon a large rock the man sat.
In every direction he looked,
through the trees the deep blue of the ocean could be seen,
from one side the trees intersected a view of the escarpment,
over the escarpment the sun was retiring for another day.
Before him difficult now to imagine once had stood the Coal Crusher,
out from inside the earth the coal had travelled,
along the flat ground from the mine portal,
upon rails the coals loads had arrived here.
Below the crushed coal was loaded and sent on a journey on a steam train,
On the way to the jetty and beyond,
into the sky chemically transformed coal would rise as carbon dioxide.
Above the man as he sits, birds in flight and in the trees made mysterious calls,
beside him, a large black and bridle-stripped dog leapt up and licked his face,
after her action she lay down
atop the rock.
Behind them out of the line sight,
on the side next to the rescued small building once used as a church,
from the settlement doomed by the building of an artificial lake.
From the near-by road, the movement of road traffic and the occasional train could be heard.
On the ground, a second tan- brown dog lay waiting patiently, beyond the man’s line of sight,
From this space,
0n the ground no sound was made,
out of a spirit of independence,
in the manner of diplomacy and canine social formality.
Onto the vacated rock the dogs share space,
Before the leave sequentially, the last dog claims the same mode of familiarity.
Away from the rock they walk homeward
along the track,
between the trees,
across the creek,
out into the open with wild grass,
down the embankment,
into the back gate, and home again.
I keep on changing it. I was not supposed to be using any verbs, and other than not reading the instructions, that rule would have prevented me saying what I wanted to say. No matter how pleasing such an outcome might have been to someone else, it would not have been to me.
Hopefully the words may complement the photos. The background music is called Nirvana VeVo by Chris Zabriski.
Probably a repeat, but Everywhere I Go with Mark Knopfler and Ruth Moody has a poignant undertone:
It is pretty hard to keep track of the months that step past, let alone the hours. And then it all over, Cobbers (now, an anachronism).