Neighborhood Watch

We are to write about our neighborhood, for the poetry class I’m taking from Continuing Studies.  What comes to mind immediately is

. the escaped Egyptian Cranes

. Wallace Stegner writing about oaks and Eucalyptus and Denmark, nearby (before he died in the hospital where I was born, two states away)

. the quails

. song coming from the synagogue at dusk

. the vineyard bare in winter, like the crosses (I imagine) on the Somme, the other battlefields in France

. the green meteor that landed one December in the neighbors’ pasture back beyond the little fruit trees—apple, pear

. the horses up on Deer Creek Road, next to the software companies, Tesla

. the name of our lane, from the Algonquin

. the owls in the darkness that we never see but are somehow profoundly comforting

image:   Amateur Traveler